by Sarah Hawke
“We won’t?” the Huntress asked, frowning. “Then what the fuck—?”
“Pleasant or not, I will endure,” Selvhara said. “Temporary discomfort is a small price to pay to ensure our safety. And as much as I would prefer to aid you during the battle, I have no doubt that you will prevail on your own.”
The amazon eyed her for a long moment, searching for any signs of dishonesty or doubt, before she smiled and nodded. “Very well. Perhaps this is for the best.”
She turned back to Jorem, and the three of them had a brief, hushed conversation while Selvhara finished chopping the last few vegetables and tossing them into the stew. The kavla would need to cook for several hours, but she was no longer worried about providing the Ranger-General with authentic old-world cuisine. She wished that Jorem had the ability to simply teleport her to the Citadel—anything to restrain her before the One God had a chance to realize what was happening.
Fortunately, Jorem didn’t tarry for long. The four of them set out for the Citadel a few minutes later, Jorem and Kaseya walking at her sides while Valuri trailed close behind. Selvhara was thankful that the looming tower was just across the bridge to the west of General Serrane’s estate. The druid’s heart pounded harder with every step; she knew it was only a matter of time before her master refocused his gaze on her.
Perhaps he has finally grown weary from extending his consciousness beyond the walls of the Pale. He has never focused on me this intently for so long.
Selvhara did her best to set aside her latent dread and hope for the best. As a group, the four of them attracted plenty of attention wherever they went. Most of Highwind’s citizens still didn’t recognize Jorem as the dragon, though the growing rumors of his amazon companion were probably starting to change that. Kaseya’s statuesque physique drew long looks from men and women alike wherever they went, and Selvhara felt plenty of eyes upon her revealing clothes and willowy elven figure as well. The Huntress should have drawn just as much attention, given how much the people here rightly feared her Senosi sisters, but Valuri wisely concealed her familiar leather armor and red scarf behind the folds of a brown cloak.
The Citadel guards did recognize Jorem, and Selvhara could see the combination of fear and reverence in their expressions while he explained his plan to them—without telling them specifically about her lycanthropy or connection to Dathiel, of course. He was a surprisingly smooth talker, charming and charismatic, and she wondered where he’d acquired such a useful skill. Technically, Jorem had no official standing among the city’s ruling elite; he wasn’t on the Council or in the Guard, and he obviously wasn’t a noble. He wasn’t even from Highwind.
But if there was one thing that hadn’t changed from the days of the Avethian Empire to the modern era, it was that when a dragon spoke, everyone listened. Power was the one constant in the multiverse, and the world quaked at Jorem’s passing whether he wished to see the tremors or not.
The guards eventually led them inside, though they seemed more than a little suspicious about why anyone would wish to imprison a waifish elven woman who barely looked strong enough to hold a sword, let alone swing one. Jorem had eventually framed his request in terms of her needing protection; he wove a reasonably clever tale about her fictitious escape from Vorsalos and how she was concerned about the Senosi hunting her down. Valuri added several gruesome details about what the Senosi would do to an elven fugitive—all while casting a few meaningful sideways glances at Selvhara—and eventually the men were convinced enough to go along with the plan.
The Citadel itself was virtually empty, which wasn’t particularly surprising given the current situation. The Knights of the Silver Fist had been the prison’s official wardens, but the Order’s near destruction in the wake of the Shattering had made that arrangement impossible. Selvhara wondered if anyone had escaped during the chaos…or if many of the inhabitants had simply been left to rot.
Either way, this certainly wasn’t a place she would have volunteered to stay in if the situation had been different. The walls were dark and thick, and her sensitive nose twitched at the pungent stench of death and despair lingering in the cold air. Each of the floors appeared to be reserved for a specific type of prisoner, from regular humans to dangerous sorcerers to actual monsters. Their escorts were even more shocked when Jorem suggested they put Selvhara on the level normally reserved for monsters, but his deft tongue once again saved the day—that, or the guards simply didn’t care enough to try to stand up to a dragon.
He convinced the guards to give them a bit of privacy once they reached the actual cell, and Kaseya swore under her breath when she examined it.
“This is beyond inhumane,” the amazon said, her blue eyes flicking about the widely spaced walls and high ceiling, then finally settling on the heavy chains piled on the floor. “This cell is meant for a beast.”
“That just gives her plenty of room to shed,” Valuri grumbled. “Would you rather we stick her in a closet somewhere?”
“This is perfect,” Selvhara assured them. The cell was easily large enough to hold half a dozen minotaur—or perhaps even a small dragon. The architecture didn’t suggest Avetharri design, but it was possible that the humans who had taken control of this land after the Empire’s fall could have built it to imprison their elven enemies…
“There is nothing perfect about it,” Kaseya said. “The smell is foul, and the shackles are degrading.”
“They are sufficient to contain me, and that is all that matters,” Selvhara said, lifting one of the long chains from the ground. The restraints were clearly designed for a much larger creature. There was a chain connected to either wall, plus another dangling from the ceiling. An actual beast could have been immobilized or perhaps even held aloft if the chains were tightened.
“This thing will barely fit around your waist,” Jorem said, holding up one of the cuffs at the end of a chain.
Valuri pointed to the small runes inscribed upon the metal. “We should be able to activate the enchantment and shrink them until they’re usable—there are plenty of manacles like this in the Castarium.”
The Huntress was right. It only took a few moments to resize the cuffs and fit them around Selvhara’s slender wrists and neck. She tried to avert her eyes and keep herself as calm possible the whole time, lest the One God ruin their plan at the last moment.
“Once we tighten the chains, she won’t be going anywhere,” Valuri said, pointing to the crank on either wall.
“I doubt that’s necessary,” Jorem muttered. “The walls and door should be more than enough.”
His expression soured as his guilt visibly gnawed away at him; he didn’t want to make Selvhara any more uncomfortable than she already was. The sentiment brought a smile to her lips—and a tingle to her quim, just as the Huntress had predicted—but she knew she couldn’t afford to allow his compassion to jeopardize his safety. This was about stopping Dathiel, not her.
“I will endure, my lord,” Selvhara told him. “Please, tighten the chains…just in case.”
Jorem studied her for a long moment, and she could see the battle waging behind his brown eyes. She wanted to cry out that they needed to hurry—they might only have a few moments to subvert Dathiel’s plans—but she managed to keep herself calm and smile sweetly instead.
“All right,” he whispered. “Let’s get this over with.”
He and Kaseya cranked the chains until they were taut. Once Selvhara’s arms were held fully outstretched, they adjusted the chain around her neck as well. The subtle pressure on her throat sent an unbidden shiver of delight through her body, and she desperately wished she could beg him to take her from behind. The mere thought of a man—a dragon—having his way with her while she was held completely helpless…
The Huntress is more right about me than I want to admit. If Jorem so much as kissed me right now, I would melt into a puddle at his feet.
“That’s good enough,” Jorem said, his lip curling with revulsion as he examined the t
hree separate chains. “Gods, I wish there were another way.”
“She’ll live,” Valuri muttered.
“Yes, I will,” Selvhara said, finally allowing herself to smile. And so will you and Kaseya.
Even in chains and with a cold, slimy grate beneath her bare feet, she felt herself relax in a way she hadn’t in days. She almost wished that the One God would shift his attention back to her right now just so he could realize the depths of his failure. A part of her still refused to believe that this had actually worked.
“I promise, we will liberate you as soon as it is safe,” Kaseya said, placing a strong hand on the elf’s shoulder. “This injustice will not stand any longer than it has to.”
Selvhara smiled as she sensed the amazon’s sincerity. Kaseya might have hated this arrangement even more than Jorem. She truly was a worthy companion for a Wyrm Lord. Selvhara just hoped that one day they would be able to share him together in peace.
“I will check on you tomorrow if there’s news about the war,” Jorem said. “And I want you to let me know if the guards mistreat you in any way.”
“I will, my lord,” Selvhara assured him. “I only hope I am able to serve you again soon.”
“Oh, for the love of…” the Huntress smacked her forehead and groaned in disgust. “I’ve had enough of this for a lifetime.”
She spun on one of her stiletto heels and left the cell. Jorem lingered for a few moments, and he eventually placed his hand on Selvhara’s cheek and leaned in to give her a quick kiss. The instant their lips touched, she felt a surge of delight ripple through every part of her body. He could have asked her to do literally anything and she would have eagerly obliged.
“I promise, we’ll get you out of here the moment it’s safe,” Jorem said.
“I will be waiting for you, my lord,” Selvhara breathed.
He brushed her cheek one last time before he finally turned and stepped out of the cell with Kaseya. Once the doors were locked and Jorem was out of her sight, Selvhara’s eyes immediately flooded with tears of joy. All she had to do now was wait for—
Sarodihm!
The One God’s voice thundered into her mind as the searing heat of his divine gaze focused upon her. Her arms stiffened in her restraints as his power crashed over her, and for a moment, she swore she could actually feel invisible Aetheric tendrils clutching at her throat. Her master’s rage swelled like a gathering storm, and she knew she would soon be a prisoner within her own body again—but this time, he wouldn’t be able to break her free.
“You’re too late,” Selvhara rasped as the tendrils began to choke her. “The dragon is already gone…and soon, he will destroy you!”
Her arms, no longer under her control, tugged and tested at the restraints. They didn’t budge—they couldn’t budge, not even if he forced her to transform. In between staggered breaths, Selvhara chuckled. Finally, after all these centuries, she was beyond the reach of his—
Fool, the One God spat. Did you honestly believe you could defy my will so easily? You are mine, elf—now and forever.
Her smile faded. Her master’s divine presence suffused her entire body, but she didn’t feel rage. On the contrary, he almost seemed…amused.
You cannot hide from your destiny, Sarodihm. You will destroy the amazon and drive the dragon to madness. His fury will burn this city to ashes, and those that survive the Reckoning will once again look to the rightful gods for guidance. Only I can save them from the plague of sorcery.
“Kill me if you wish,” Selvhara snarled through clenched teeth. “But you cannot make me serve you—not anymore!”
The pressure on her throat abruptly ceased, and she felt his power recede from her body. For an instant, she thought he might have shifted his attention away from her again…but then she felt his presence lingering in the back of her mind, as strong and oppressive as ever.
My servants will find you when the time is right, Sarodihm, and the Wyrm Lord’s concubine will no longer be on watch for your betrayal. He should have listened to the Senosi and destroyed you when he had the chance. Like all the dragons before him, his hubris will be his undoing.
“No,” Selvhara insisted. “No, I will never…”
She trailed off when Dathiel’s presence faded. She couldn’t sense him lurking in the farthest reaches of her mind at all anymore; it was as if he had completely vanished. She paused, panting for breath, as the first pangs of the Vastien Glamor—the Wasting Echo—began gnawing at her limbs. Elves were typically less sensitive to Aetheric withdrawal than humans, but a thousand years of bondage and dependence had likely changed that. Over the next few hours, her body would begin to wither and rot from the inside. The pain would intensify until she could barely draw breath…
And the One God knew it.
He will leave me alone and broken until his agents set me free, then he will order me to destroy Kaseya. And thanks to the wolf’s blood and the Dal’Rethi collar, I’ll be able to track her down anywhere in the city…
“Oh, gods,” she breathed, tugging futilely at her restraints. “Jorem! Jorem, come back!”
Selvhara’s cries echoed through the empty Citadel until all that remained was suffocating silence.
4
The Bargain
The last waning rays of the setting sun greeted Jorem’s eyes when he strode out of the Gray Citadel, and he was only slightly less relieved to leave the ominous tower than when he and the girls had been actual prisoners a few months ago. A guilty knot had been roiling in the pit of his stomach ever since they had settled on this plan, and he still felt awful about it. Selvhara’s gleeful acquiescence had honestly made him feel worse rather than better; it just highlighted how unjust it was that such a sweet woman could be trapped in this position.
“Gods, you two look like we just walked out of a crypt,” Valuri said as they passed the guards and started down the steps. “Wolf girl will be fine. Better than fine, actually, since she’ll be farther away from me.”
Jorem shared a quick glance with Kaseya. The amazon could already sense how he felt, obviously, and he knew she didn’t like this arrangement any more than he did. But there was also no going back at this point, and given the available options, he was still convinced they had made the right decision.
Or at least, the only decision.
He sighed wearily as he came to a halt at the bottom of the steps. The air was already getting colder as nightfall approached, and he could see snow flurries dancing in the crimson sky over the eastern side of the city. He almost hoped for a blizzard—snow and rough winds would seriously impede the Vorsalosian ships and their wyverns. It might even open the possibility of hit-and-run attacks to whittle down the approaching armies.
“General Serrane should be back home soon, if she isn’t already,” Jorem said. “You two should head back to her estate and continue strategizing. With any luck, her scouts upriver have reported back with good news.”
“Or they never came back because they were eaten by wyverns,” Valuri muttered as she tightened her red scarf. “And for the record, I still think it’s insane for you to meet with Solemi alone. Actually, I think this entire plan is—”
“We’ve been over this,” Jorem interrupted more forcefully than he’d intended. “And I don’t want to argue about it anymore. Just head back to the estate, all right? I’ll return in a few hours.”
It took him a while to muster the willpower to turn and look them both in the eye. Kaseya could surely sense his lingering doubts about this whole arrangement. Solemi’s “bargain” was objectively crazy in about ten different ways, not to mention disturbing on multiple levels, but it would get them what they needed to win this war. As for the price…
Well, at least he would be able to bear it alone.
“If that is your wish, Maskari,” Kaseya said after a moment. “We will coordinate with the Ranger-General and await your return.”
Valuri glared at him for another minute, her green eyes glittering as if they were pro
bing his soul. She might not have been wearing a bonding collar, but she knew him better than anyone. She understood that difficult times demanded difficult choices.
She just thought he was making the wrong one.
“Let’s go, Red,” Valuri said at last, tugging at the amazon’s arm. “If you’re worried about wolf girl being miserable in there all alone, I’d be happy to strap on the phallus and fuck you a few more times. Who knows, maybe I can convince Serrane to join in…”
The Huntress turned and gently pulled the amazon along with her. Jorem watched the two of them walk back toward the bridge to the Artisan District, still wondering if this was all a big mistake.
It’s too late to change my mind now. I might as well get this over with.
Sighing heavily, he pulled up his hood and walked northwest toward the Redwater District. Once again, he was thankful that no passersby recognized him, and he made excellent time despite the crowded streets. The Guard would most likely start enforcing curfew soon, but at the moment everyone was busy making final preparations for the coming battle. Stores were boarding up their windows, people were buying up whatever food they could find, and soldiers were madly trying to erect barricades to cordon off certain streets in case the enemy breached the walls.
When he rounded the corner, the Silken Rose itself looked just as empty as when Jorem had come here a few days ago. Even if Solemi still had a staff, her wealthy clientele had either shuttered themselves in their mansions or fled east upriver as quickly as they could. The city’s other brothels were as busy as he had ever seen them, which spoke to Highwind’s yawning class divide as much as anything could. The men who were about to spill blood for the richest city in the Reaches—and the whores who were serving them—were all too poor to leave. They would all spend the night before the battle trading their last few coppers for a final taste of joy.
Jorem wondered what was happening in Vorsalos right now. He didn’t think of home much these days, given how difficult it was to get wistful about hiding from the Senosi in a cistern, but a small part of him couldn’t help but think about what was going to happen in the wake of this battle. If the Inquisitrix and her fleet prevailed, Vorsalos would become the seat of a new empire almost overnight. Every city-state in the Northern Reaches would fall under her sway, and if Selvhara was right about Dathiel—an actual Fallen God—acquiring enough power to destroy the Aether and escape the Pale…