by Prax Venter
Sasha clomped up onto the one stone slab and then pushed open the door. The snug and dimly lit shop smelled as if twenty different types of incense were all burning at once. Shelves of glass jars filled to various heights with powders, leaves, and animal bits pressed in close around them.
“Ho!”
Mark turned to see a smaller elderly Skeema draped in colorful shawls grunt as she climbed a stool to stand at a raised section of counter. She spread her four palms to indicate the whole store before she continued.
“I’m Mav. Welcome, Collector, to Mav’s Magics! What mystical ingredients do you seek? Perhaps something to spice up essence transfers after a long day of adventuring in the wilds?”
Mark was going to just blurt out that he was looking to sell something again when a much better idea hit him.
“You got it,” Mark said with a grin. He pantomimed hiding his finger as he pointed at Sasha specifically, but said, “These two require some high endurance to keep them both happy.”
The wise old Skeema nodded solemnly, crossing all four of her arms.
“Succubi are notorious for voracious sexual appetites. But tell me, that supply of Eternal Echo your satyr wears strapped to her sensual, round hips isn’t doing it for you?”
The shopkeeper was focused directly on Mark, and he detected the sharp spark of intelligence behind her steely gray eyes. He quickly realized he was in over his head.
“Actually,” Mark said, dropping all attempts to elicit information. “I would love to earn some coin by selling you a vial of this rare Awysai import.”
The gray-haired Skeema put her two right hands on her hip and held out a left one, making a beckoning motion with the tips of her wrinkled fingers.
“Show me what you’ve got.”
Mark turned to see a self-conscious Jezebel patting her doe-half and pulling down the pink t-shirt over her hips. She snapped her emerald eyes up to meet his, and with a flush creeping in on her tan cheeks, she clomped over and handed him a vial.
“Thanks, Jez,” he said before walking the stoppered tube over to the wizened Skeema shopkeeper.
She pulled the cork out and sniffed once before her eyes shot up to Mark.
“How did you get this?” she said, her attention dropping down to the sharp shard tucked into his belt. “Is this stolen?”
He locked his good eye on hers and spoke with the weight of confident honesty.
“No, ma’am. We acquired them as part of a legitimate trade.”
As she studied his scarred eye, it occurred to Mark that he had no idea what he looked like. Everything had felt so much like a game that he didn’t really care, but now, with this small, four-armed woman examining him, he suddenly needed to see his own face. He blinked, his mind feeling spun around. Mark had been studying this mysterious Mav, who in turn had been studying him, and it initiated a bizarre feedback loop in his cursed eye.
The shopkeeper popped the cork back in the top and laid the object down on the counter.
“One dose of authentic Eternal Echo? I’ll give you 1 gold for it.”
He assumed it was more than what was offered by the shady street vendor, but he still felt woefully unprepared. He needed to get a solid grasp on how currency worked here.
“I’m new to this area,” Mark said, focusing his blind eye on her reaction. “Is that the best price I can get?”
“No,” she said without hesitation and without deceit. “But it’s the best price you’ll get from me. Take it, or if you aren’t buying anything, leave my store.”
Mark could tell this shrewd businesswoman was not lying at all. He wouldn’t be able to haggle for any more and didn’t really have any grasp on what a reasonable counteroffer would be anyway. He also felt that although she was making a profit off this transaction, there was no ill will or hidden giddiness.
Reluctantly, Mark nodded. “Deal,” he said. They needed to get a baseline somehow. Maybe actually spending some of this one coin might give him a better idea of gold’s buying power.
Mav hopped down from the stool, ducked under the counter and then came back up, slapping a coin on its wooden surface.
“Pleasure doing business, Collector. Will that be all?”
Mark pocketed the coin and nodded. They both exchanged parting pleasantries before Mark led his two beast-women back out into the busy cobblestone street.
Jezebel crossed her arms. “Well, that’s one down. Should we try another store?”
Mark looked to Sasha to use her directional instincts when he noticed the succubus’ blue eyes were locked on something over his shoulder.
He turned to see the dancing street performer he’d fixated on earlier was now surrounded by five of the shorter Skeema variants.
One was trying to pull down her wispy, hip-hugging skirt while another held one of her wrists. Mark could tell she was not happy as she struggled to keep the many grabbing hands off her. No one in the crowd reacted to her plight, and even the group of huge, chain-armored Skeema down the street didn’t care.
Well, Mark cared. There was a moment’s hesitation about whether he should get involved with volatile situations surrounded by a foreign culture when their lives were on the line, but in the end, standing by and doing nothing just wasn’t in his character.
He made a b-line through the pedestrians going about their business and straight toward the gang of four-foot-tall molesters.
“Mark, where…?” Jezebel started, but then saw the altercation and fell in place tight on his heels alongside Sasha.
“…side of the market, Twig. You’ve been warned.”
“Hey!” Mark said, stepping into their conversation and all five of the smaller Skeema turned to look at him with snarls on their faces. They were all thickly muscled and stocky, and the one talking was dressed in a sharp, four-armed suit. “Is there a problem here?” Mark asked, wondering if he had so quickly jumped in over his head again.
Two of the four-armed men moved up to Mark, causing Sasha and Jezebel to stomp forward, signaling their clear intent to prevent any contact.
“Would you look at this?” one of the Skeema males said. “A new Collector making a mistake.”
“Yes,” sneered the small gentleman in the suit, running his eyes over Sasha. After a heartbeat too long, he shifted his attention back to Mark. “My business license is quite clear on this matter, human. I suggest you take your harem and continue on your way.”
“Aw, damn it, Kree. Let ’em fuck up and end up in the Wrongside. We could use a unique succubus like this on the payroll.”
The mouthy one who just spoke reached up and grazed one of his tiny hands down Sasha’s metal thigh.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Sasha screeched and blasted the small Skeema right in the face with a point-blank Arc Bolt.
A cry went up behind Mark, and the pedestrians started to scramble away in a panic.
“Nab!” the leader said, rushing over to his fallen henchman. By the charred remains of his small face, Mark was pretty sure Sasha had just murdered him.
“Guards!” yelled one of the others, and Mark’s mind raced with options.
Jezebel tugged on his arm and said, “We need to run, now!”
“Follow me,” the red-veiled dancer said before she dashed off into the crowd.
Mark spared a moment to see the 10-foot guards finally taking an interest in the situation, then turned to Sasha, whose face was still twisted into a display of pure hatred.
“Sasha!” he yelled, snapping her out of whatever this was. “Follow her!” He pointed after the mid-sized Skeema. The succubus nodded, her face going slack, then dashed away from the area.
Mark and Jezebel sprinted behind her, weaving around stone brick alleys and stacks of crates. The long legs of the giant variants were hard to outpace though, and three such four-armed humanoids were gaining on them. Mark cast a glance over his shoulder and saw that the narrow alley behind him was now filled with multiple guards chasing them down.
“Wait!” Jezebe
l yelled and skidded her hooves against the smooth stones. She turned, holding up a green, glowing fist, and the satyr’s Vines targeted the leading Skeema guard.
Snarling vegetation grew from the cobblestone and wasn’t strong enough to hold his foot for long, but the sudden blockage caused a tangled pileup of the huge, four-armed guards. The distraction gave them a chance to put some distance between their pursuers and break their line of sight.
The street performer Skeema continued to lead them on a convoluted path, and Mark was quickly disorientated. Fortunately, the massive magic portal was visible from pretty much anywhere. By its position, he deduced they were moving toward the north side of the city, and the roads turned from cobblestone to dirt as the apparent wealth of the area plummeted sharply.
After a long, straight alley, the dancer ducked under a wooden stairwell and into the deep shadows below a stack of rickety homes. Logs surrounded them on all three sides, and the small alcove seemed like a perfect place to hide from giant guards.
Once Sasha, Mark, and Jezebel made it inside, the dancer moved three of her pointer fingers near each of their mouths, careful not to touch them. Her fear-soaked gray eyes remained locked on Sasha as the mid-sized Skeema woman used her fourth hand to put a finger against her own lips. She wanted them to stay quiet.
Mark shot a glance over to his succubus and saw her nod. Once they all nodded, the dancer pulled all her fingers away from the group and peeked out onto the street.
It was the first time he had really seen her face up close. The red veil obscured the bottom half, but her gray almond eyes and long black hair were decidedly attractive.
“This way!” a voice boomed down the alley. “More hoofprints!”
All four of them looked down to the dust-caked, black hooves of Sasha and Jezebel.
“Oh no,” Sasha said.
“Oh no?” the dancer said, her thick eyebrows raised in a flinty voice. “We’re all going to the Wrongside!”
Mark ignored the second mention of that odd-sounding place and focused on more pressing matters. There was only one exit from their hiding spot, and massive, four-armed warriors were headed straight toward them. He spun, looking for an option and when he considered Jezebel’s new shapeshifting ability, a crazy plan began to form. But they needed to act quickly.
“Listen up!” Mark said, not bothering to keep quiet. “Sasha, Arc Bolt those old logs and then kick us a new exit. Jezebel, I need you to shift the moment we bust through. Then Sasha will ride your back while we run.”
The dancer’s gray eyes went wide, and Jezebel looked like she was about to protest when Sasha dazed them all with a powerful blast of energy in the dark, confined space. Mark’s ears rang from the concussive force, but the chrome-legged succubus shook it off and began splintering the blackened logs with form-perfect Side Kicks.
It took about three strikes from the succubus’ powerful chrome legs, but she bashed open a hole they could climb through. Sasha pushed herself through first, and just as Mark put his arm out for the Skeema dancer to go next, an ominous groan came from the poorly built structure above them.
“Move!” Mark yelled, and despite her extra arms, the thin dancer quickly wedged through the jagged hole. He shoved the shocked satyr forward as a log above buckled and fell behind them. Jezebel squeezed out, and then he moved to hop out after her, but the compromised building had its own plans. A pile of logs came crashing down on his left leg, crushing it.
His foot was beyond broken, and Mark almost burst a blood vessel in his head as he bit back the violent scream struggling to get out of his throat.
An instant later, bear-Jezebel was over him, grunting as she lifted a stack of logs off his leg. Sasha dragged him out by his arms and terrible pain destroyed his mind as his mangled foot scraped against the ground. It all happened sickeningly slow and horribly fast, and Mark struggled to heal his foot, fighting against the agony blotting out his ability to think.
Before he could do anything, the Skeema street performer placed all four of her hands on his leg, and he felt a strange searing numbness spread through his body.
It took a few heartbeats, but the unbearable pain subsided. Mark pushed up off the ground and got to his feet with absolutely no problem. He stood blinking at the dancer and almost said something stupid, like, “you can heal?” but didn’t and added this to the toppling tower of questions he had about everything.
He spun to see that the street they were on was relatively empty but knew it wouldn’t be that way for long.
“Thank you!” he said to the female Skeema. “Now, I hope you can take us to another great hiding spot.”
The dancer’s eyes broadcast worry, then determination. It seemed like she had come to a hard decision.
“This way!” she said and started softly flapping her silk slippers against the dirt road.
Mark turned to see the winged-succubus straddling Jezebel’s muscular bear form, and the horned pair looked like a force to be reckoned with.
“Get after her!”
The bear growled deeply and dashed forward while Sasha grabbed a fistful of Jezebel’s thick fur, so she wasn’t flung backward.
They were making quite a damn mess in this city.
A cluster of short Skeema took a second glance at a succubus riding a bear as they passed, but least they weren’t leaving any hoof tracks. The veiled belly dancer took them on another wild run through the slums of Reoc’s Hold and eventually they came upon another stone street. In fact, everything around them was now made of stone. Not a single stick in sight.
“Okay,” Mark said, slapping Jezebel’s furry bear ass. “Let’s tuck away this beast now that we can’t leave tracks.”
Sasha spread out her wings further than Mark had seen and watched as the thin, red membrane caught the air rushing past the galloping bear. The succubus lifted off and landed on her hooves while Jezebel stood up and reverted to a tan satyr, mid-run. He wondered if there would ever come a point where he wasn’t in awe of these two beast-women.
The dancer veered off the main road and down a tight alley between the slate-gray buildings. Their sharp hooves ringing off the stone in this quiet neighborhood brought him new anxiety, and Mark couldn’t help shooting nervous glances over his shoulder. A few tight corners later, they came upon a low arch they all had to crawl under, and then they were standing in what appeared to be an ancient, moss-covered graveyard. The ground here was nothing but flat, solid stone. Headstones and small, ornately carved mausoleums stood quietly under the noonday sun. The high outer wall was far ahead of them, and all around this massive area were windowless buildings or other high walls.
“We’re almost there,” the dancer said. “No one should follow us.”
Mark shot looks to Jezebel and Sasha, wondering if there was a specific reason why no one would follow them here when he caught Sasha staring blankly at the stone ground under her hooves. He peered into that deeper layer, closer to her core and saw that she was stuck reliving some terrible and uncomfortable memory.
“Hey,” Mark said, softly reaching out to touch her arm. Sasha’s focus snapped to him, and she instantly flipped back to the present, an apologetic look in her wide, worried eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Mark,” she said. “He shouldn’t- I didn’t mean to kill him… I-”
Mark gave her a gentle smile. “It’s okay, Sasha. We’ll figure this out. That asshole seemed like a criminal anyway.”
“He was Nab, one of Count Kee’s apprentices,” the dancer said, then she abruptly turned to walk behind a row of tombstones and down a partially hidden stairway carved sheer into the rock. Mark held his follow-up questions about who Sasha had murdered until they reached their destination.
Their guide tapped yellow crystals cemented into the stone walls with her fingers as they passed, causing them to glow in response. She led them through some more twists, and Mark hoped one of his two AI companions remembered how to get back out. Rows of stone coffins lined the walls to either side, and M
ark swallowed hard. There was no way this didn’t end in fighting skeletons.
Eventually, the dancer’s winding path through hallways of solid rock stopped inside a square chamber that was clearly her home.
There were none of the glowing crystals in this area, so the female Skeema lit a few candles then picked up a leather satchel off the ground. Silk sheets hung on the stone walls covering alcoves with missing coffins. On the floor was a pile of clothes with a blanket partially covering it and on top of the blanket were three stuffed animals. A bear, a bee, and a monkey.
“My name is Loa,” she said, tossing some of her clothes into the sack with the efficiency of a four-armed creature. “And yes. You killed the protégé of a wealthy brothel owner in broad daylight.” She stopped and turned to face the group standing in her home. Loa paused and crossed all her arms and continued. “Whatever business you had in Reoc’s Hold is impossible now, unless your aim was to get yourself tossed to the Wrongside.”
“Yeah, Hi. I’m Mark, this is Jezebel and Sasha.” He looked over to the succubus when he said her name.
Sasha waved and let out a deep sigh. “I kind of snapped back there. I can’t say it won’t happen again.” She balled both her hands into fists. “I just can’t stand grabby pricks.”
The four-armed Skeema went back to packing her bag.
“Well, now you three are going to help me fight our way out of the city.” She stopped at her three stuffed animals and seemed to be considering if she had room to take them. To Mark’s new emotional antenna, she was deep in agony over the choice.
“Okay,” Mark said. “Let’s slow down a second.”
“Yeah,” Jezebel jumped in. “We did save you, after all.”
Mark groaned internally. It was the wrong thing to say to this woman, especially as she debated leaving behind her meager treasures.
“Saved me?” Loa said, spinning on the green-eyed satyr. “I would have slipped those grabby pricks in moments and found another corner like I’ve done countless times. Now I can work no corners! It was already bad for me, now life’s impossible.” She pulled her veil aside, and Mark saw Loa’s stunning face for the first time. Her red lips were full, and she had a tiny button nose that only made her currently angry face just seem terribly attractive. She stuffed the veil in her bag and then continued.