Rogue's Wicked Harem

by Reed James

  Sven shouted his step-sister's name. Poor Kora thrashed as Aingeal reached her.

  “It's up in the trees,” Sven shouted, staring up. “Do you see it, Ealaín?”

  “The shadows are cloaking it,” the aoi si said, her white hair swaying about her midnight-black face. Her armor glinted as she twisted her body, a dart striking her vambrace. “We must hone our senses, Sven.”

  I peered up at the trees, staring at the gloom. The trembling, pounding fear dwindled as I focused on something, looking for anything moving up there. Another dart streaked out of the boughs of a pine tree to my right.

  A shadow moved up there. It detached from the gloom. A pine tree nearby rustled, its bough swaying back and forth.

  “Sven!” I shouted, pointing my little arm. “There, there, that tree! It jumped!”

  ~ * ~

  Sven Falk

  Little squeaks caught my attention.

  Ava's body glittered as she pointed her tiny arm up into the air. The little statue bounced on her feet. My eyes flashed up into the trees and...

  A dart hissed out at me. It moved so slowly. Battle's exhilaration pumped through me. Time stretched, slowed. I swung my dagger, gripped in my left hand, hard, knocking it from the air. My right hand throbbed. I kept flexing my broken finger. I ignored where the dart went, focused on the gloom in the trees and... it shifted in there. It moved around the tree towards its right side.

  Realization crystallized through me.

  I followed the movement, spotted my target, anticipating the shadow's path. My dagger flew from my hand. I threw it hard at a thick branch jutting from a pine tree, almost swallowed by the gloom. The moment I released my weapon, a shadow flowed from the first tree and crossed the space for that same branch.

  Thunk. My blade buried into the wood.

  The shadow landed on the branch I hit. The tree creaked. The branch waved as it tried to support the thing's weight. A loud crack snapped through the air. The branch, weakened by my dagger buried into it, snapped in half. The form tumbled through the air, twisting. The shadows clung around it, hiding whatever it was. The surface of the thing undulated and rippled like oily ink on the surface of a pool. It landed in a crouch before me.

  I threw myself to the side as a dart hurtled from the shadows. I hit the ground and rolled up into a crouch, drawing my short sword in my left hand, grateful that the Fencer's College trained me to be ambidextrous. My right hand throbbed worse as I came up into a crouch.

  I had to stop clenching it into a fist. It itched to hold a weapon as I darted at the shadows. Ealaín bellowed, the aoi si raising her ax and war hammer to swing at the shadows. The inky form twitched and convulsed. Then lances of darkness shot out from it.

  Ealaín's boots dug furrows as she halted her charge before being impaled. “Rithi's brilliant talent!”

  I lunged my short sword at the target, thrusting the weapon forward, stabbing hard with it. The shadows contracted. The thing flowed away from my weapon, moving like liquid darkness in the vague form of a man.

  “Las's putrid cum!” I groaned as I ducked a lance of shadow. “What is it?”

  “A lie,” Ealaín shouted.

  ~ * ~

  Ealaín

  My cheeks burned with shame. I couldn't believe I let an illusion make me afraid. I didn't need to flee those dark lances. The figure used shadowmancing, drawing on negative space to create illusions in the opposite way Kora did. Instead of manipulating light, shadowmancers manipulated its absence. It... limited what they could create.

  But it had no substance. It couldn't hurt, but only distract and deceive.

  “Do not fear the shadows,” I shouted at Sven as I charged in, my armor rattling. I raised my ax, my war hammer held low. I swung hard at the figure. “They are not real!”

  Inky tendrils twisted into a lance and thrust from the figure. I didn't flinch before them, my ax slicing down to cut the shadowmancer, hiding in her illusion, in half. My skin tensed anyway. I knew it wasn't real and—

  The spike slammed into my armor. It glanced off the curve of my breast. The force of the impact jostled me back. The lance skipped over my tit and cut across my exposed breastbone. Pain flared as my torso twisted backward.

  Shock struck me harder than the pain throbbing from my wound.

  “Impossible!” I shouted as I fought to hold my balance.

  Another lance shot out at me. I lifted my warhammer, blocking the attack with the steel weapon. The blow almost ripped it from my hand. I backpedaled, more shadows thrusting out from the form, stabbing like a dozen slender spears.

  “I thought you said it wasn't real?” Sven shouted, slashing his short sword before him, parrying the stabs flying at his body.

  “I...” I shook my head. “They shouldn't be!”

  ~ * ~

  Zanyia

  “Hithina!” I yowled as I rolled across the ground with my sister lamia.

  “Zanyia!” she snarled back, her claws raking across my forearms, her dyed-black hair sweeping about her fierce face.

  I hissed through clenched teeth as the fire throbbed in my arm. I planted my foot into Hithina's stomach and heaved her over my head. She landed on her back as I flipped over and straddled her torso. I slashed at her face. Her hand caught my wrist, arresting my claws before they could rip out the hissing bitch's eyes.

  “I won't go back!” I yowled. “And I won't let you hurt my owner!”

  Hithina bucked her torso, her ears twitching. Cruelty burned in her golden eyes. “You won't. I'll bury you with him.”

  I strained to slash at her throat while my arm throbbed worse. The scratches pounded, twitching. Something pumped through my veins, an acid burning me from the inside. My nose inhaled, smelling the alkaline scent of the poison. I spat my fury as her poison afflicted my body.

  My tail flicked as I fought with her to grasp her throat. I would not let her and her disgusting master, the assassin Keythivak, harm my master and his sister. Sweat poured down my body, thick drops that soaked into my eyebrows. My ears twitched as my claws came closer and closer to her throat.

  “Your mother should have drowned you when you were a kitten!” I yowled. “You are as disgusting as the nagas!”

  A wicked smile crossed Hithina's lips. “When you serve your master with all your heart, you are rewarded. If you had surrendered to Warleader Therek, he—”

  “He only knew how to beat me!” I spat. “I watched him die! And I'll watch your owner die, too!”

  Hithina's pale face twisted. Her golden eyes flashed. She bucked and squirmed beneath me as I brought my clawed fingers closer and closer to her throat. I would rip out her life before her Las-damned poison overcame me.

  My left arm pulsed with pain. The wound swelled. My skin felt overripe around it. I ground my teeth together, heaving against her arms. My claws came closer to her flesh. Her throat throbbed with her heartbeat. Her life pumped through her veins.

  “I'll bury you with your master,” I snarled as my claws brushed her throat. I drew a line of red, just a scratch to her skin.

  Her hand strained to force me back. An expression swelled on her face, but not fear.

  Exultation.

  I frowned as my claws reached for her throat again. Why was—

  Shadows flowed across her skin. My eyes widened as she shadowmanced. A lamia? The inky night surged at me. I squeezed my eyes shut, flinching as... nothing touched me. Shadows weren't real. They couldn't hurt me. Only...

  I opened my eyes onto darkness. My tail went rigid. I yowled as Hithina twitched beneath me. Cold waves of panic washed through me. Flashes of being in the kennels, trapped in darkness to be punished, to be molded to be the perfect sex slave for the naga's favorite humans. For Therek.

  “No!” I hissed. “He taught you to shadowmance?”

  “I gave myself utterly to my owner,” Hithina taunted, her voice rising from all around me. Her body flexed.

  Distracted by my blindness, she had gained advantage. I flipped over
her and landed on my side. I fought the whimpers wanting to bubble up through my throat. I had to focus. I wasn't in the cage. I wasn't being punished.

  “He taught me all the secrets of the nagas,” purred Hithina. “How to manipulate shadows. How to make poisons. How to kill!”

  Hithina's voice sounded closer. My ears pricked. Movement. I threw myself to the right out of instinct, rolling across the ground. I came up in a crouch, movements assaulting my ears. I struggled to filter out the sounds of battle and focus—

  Hithina struck me across the face.

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Deadly Shadows

  Aingeal

  The spirits surged through Kora. I could feel them working to heal her wound. Her convulsions slowed. The froth stopped bubbling from her lips. Her eyes closed. She let out a soft exhale. Her blood no longer pumped out of her, staining my hand.

  “That's it,” I said as the spirits danced in and out of her body. “They're fixing you. Okay?”

  Kora let out a soft groan.

  I nodded my head, my back muscles twitching. “You're doing great. It'll be fine.”

  “Aingeal...” muttered Kora, her eyes moving beneath her closed lids.

  “Yes, yes, you're almost fixed.” She could feel the spirits of enhancement scouring through her body. The final trembles faded from her body. “There. Just take a moment, Kora. You're going to be fine.”

  Kora didn't answer. But her chest rose and fell with regular breathing. The spirits zoomed out of her body in streaks of green. I sank back, my rump resting on the heels of my feet. I looked around, gasped at the sight of Sven and Ealaín battling a figure of shadows. Lances shot and stabbed and thrust at the two warriors, keeping them at bay.

  I gasped at what I saw dancing in the shadows. “A witch?”

  ~ * ~

  Sven Falk

  “Las's putrid cum!” I snarled, holding my right hand behind me, using my arm as a counterbalance as I parried with my short sword. I backed off of the shadowy form, the spears of darkness seeking my flesh.

  The form made no sound. No grunts or growls. No curses or taunts. Just deadly silence. The flowing darkness just tried to kill us. How could I close the distance? It had such great reach. My blade was so short compared to the knifing spears it made. They were twice the length of my arm.

  “How do we stop shadowmancing?” I shouted at Ealaín.

  “There is a way,” Ealaín said.

  “What is it?” Ignoring the throbbing pain of my broken finger, I pulled a throwing dagger from my bandoleer. I sucked in a breath as I gripped it awkwardly.

  I flicked my wrist. I winced at the clumsy toss. My throwing dagger tumbled through the air. The shadows flowed out of its path. Ealaín, standing on the other side, swung her war hammer and deflected the weapon before it struck her body.

  Then she charged in and swung her ax in great, scything arcs, cutting at the shadows. She severed through inky tendrils. They melted into mist before her. The form merely flowed back from her and kept thrusting. When it passed over shadows on the ground, they rippled and writhed, drawing into the growing mass.

  Feeding whatever it lost.

  “Ealaín, what is the way?” I shouted and thrust at the figure.

  A lance shot out at my head. I ducked it, going into a crouch and plunging my sword upward at the figure. Part of the shadows hardened into a shield. My sword struck it. The tip embedded into it like I hit wood. My blade quivered. I ripped it free and tumbled back as stabbing spears sought my flesh.

  “Ealaín! How?”

  “Not yet!” she bellowed, war hammer and ax swinging before her, double arcs that swept aside attacks from reaching her.

  I drew another throwing dagger in an agonized grip. Ealaín had a way to beat this attacker. If she wouldn't speak it, it meant she didn't want to tip off the attacker. I needed to aid her. I had to watch her and follow her lead.

  She closed on the figure. It flowed back. I had to give her an opening to land her attack. This might be it. I gripped the dagger tight, ignoring the grinding pain in my broken finger. I concentrated, sweat breaking out across my face.

  I threw it as hard as I could.

  It tumbled end over end. The figure noticed it. The shadows stopped flowing, letting the dagger flash before it instead of retreating into its path. It was a brief halt to his movement, only a heartbeat of distraction, but it was enough for Ealaín to close the distance.

  I charged in after my dagger. We could pen it in. Cut it down. The shadow rippled as Ealaín bellowed. She sounded like a fierce warrior, a charging bull bringing death sweeping down at the figure.

  A thick spear, wider than my arm, thrust from the center of the mass of shadows. The surface rippled and ran towards the extending attack lunging right at Ealaín. Her war hammer swept around, blurring silver, and slammed into the new attack.

  Rebounded.

  “No!” she gasped.

  ~ * ~

  Ealaín

  The thick lance of darkness struck my breastplate where it covered my stomach. My armor rang like a gong. Metal crumpled. The air exploded from my lungs as I stumbled back. The world blurred around me. I hit the ground.

  I coughed, gasped. Waves of agony washed out of my stomach. My eyes fluttered. My hands flexed over nothing. What happened? I tried to suck in a breath, my lungs expanding. Something crushed my chest and stomach, squeezing so tight I could only inhale a fraction of what I needed. Stars danced across my vision. Darkness fuzzed at the edges. My head swam.

  Sven cursed.

  I struggled to lift my head and peer down my body at...

  “Oh... no...” I wheezed.

  The blow had buckled my armor. The dented metal pressed on my stomach, on my solar plexus. It squeezed about my breasts and put pressure on my ribs. They creaked as I sucked in another short inhalation. Dizziness washed over me. My hands clenched on nothing. I had to get the armor off.

  I fought against the waves of sluggish thought that swept through me. I needed to breathe. My mind screamed for it. My lungs burned to be filled. I sucked in another breath through my nostrils and...

  Agony crushed my torso.

  “Rithi's... per... fect... art...”

  My fingers found the straps of my breastplate. The leather had pulled taut, stretched by the distortions to my armor. I fumbled at it, struggling to gain any slack so I could unbuckle them. I whimpered, pulling at the leather with all my—

  “Gods!” I screamed. Pulling the strap taut put so much pressure on my stomach. I couldn't suck in any breath. I kept pulling at it. I had to relieve the pressure.

  My hands released the straps. The world spun around me. My eyes fluttered as I lay there on the ground. I needed to do something. To stop this. What? So hard to think. I sucked in another breath, crushing breasts and ribs to fill lungs with air.

  A moment of clarity. Kora. I needed to inspire Kora.

  ~ * ~

  Princess Ava

  I clutched at the grass as Sven fought the shadows alone. He retreated away from the fallen aoi si. She lay in a crumpled, twitching heap, her dark face twisted with grimaces of pain. I squirmed my stone body. What could I do to help Sven?

  He couldn't fight the shadow on his own. It was too fast. Had too many attacks. Eventually, my betrothed would take a blow like Ealaín had. Only he didn't have her armor to protect him. Those lances would skewer through his flesh.

  “Pater, no,” I moaned. “Father of the Gods, defend your son from this monster.”

  I had to do something. Anything. But what? I was just a princess. I didn't know how to fight. I didn't have any skill with the sword or spear. I didn't know how to move and dodge and weave like Sven did. He moved with such grace as he retreated. His sword slashed with his left hand. His right, fingers twisted and broken, clutched a dagger in an awkward grip. He threw it hard.

  The shadow flowed around the knifing dagger.

  What could I do? I was just inhabiting my...

  My stone body. Rose quar
tz was strong. It was heavy. I touched the enchantment the soulborn witch Fiona put on my proxy. The world shrunk around me as I swelled. The blade of grass I clutched like a scared maid dropped away. I soared to my real height as I sprang at the shadows.

  I wasn't here. This wasn't my real flesh. I had nothing to fear. “Sven!”

  The shadows rippled. I could feel something cold, malevolent, considering me as I rushed at the inky thing. I would protect my Sven. I would be his shield. His armor. I would keep those lances from finding his flesh.

  ~ * ~

  Zanyia

  My head rang from the blow. I stumbled on the ground, my toes and fingers digging through the loamy soil. Dried pine needles pricked at the soles of my feet. My tail swished as my ears pricked, trying to figure out where Hithina was.

  “You're remembering the punishment kennels, aren't you?” Hithina taunted.

  Her voice floated from my right. I whirled and swiped in that direction.

  Hit nothing.

  “Do you feel the metal walls closing in on you? How they grew hotter and hotter as the day's sun warms the iron. The air growing stuffy. Your tail trapped, unable to swish? Huh, Zanyia? Alone in the smothering night? Is it making your heart pound?”

  “No!” I hissed. “The nagas don't own me! They cannot punish me! It's just a trick! You covered my eyes with shadows!”

  “Did I?” The voice came from my left.

  I whirled and leaped, hissing fury. I landed on the ground as she laughed to my right. I spun around and slashed so hard, clawed fingers scything through empty air. I missed. My left arm ached so badly. It felt like it would pop. Something dripped down from the wound. A foul reek filled my nose.

  “Maybe it's the poison. Maybe it's blinded you, little Zanyia.”

  My fingers dug into the soil. My ears pricked. I filtered out the other sounds. I had to focus on her. Her!

  “Soon you'll be clawing to rip off that arm. It'll suppurate worse and worse. Can you smell it already rotting away?”

  My ears tracked her voice. She circled me, taunting me. I gripped the soil in my hand as I spit my fury. I acted, throwing the dirt before the figure. Soft impacts of soil hitting flesh echoed. She yowled in shock.