by JANRAE FRANK
"What if they die?" Jimi asked. "There will be no one to tell them we did not do it."
"They'll probably kill us," Jysy said calmly, working the cord off her hands.
"Those are sealed cords!" Jimi's eyes widened as he watched her remove her cords. "How did you do that?"
"Old thieves trick. I tensed just enough to make them loosen when I relaxed."
"Why didn't they explode or something?"
Jysy laughed. "I don't have any magic to touch them off. I'm not a mage, silly. Except for Birdie and Lizard, there's almost none of us hasn't been caught at least once. You people are just sooo obsessed with fighting and evasion. We worry about escape a whole lot."
"Yeah, I guess we do. What did you call these people, anyway," Jimi asked. "I've never seen any thing like them before."
"Night-Elves," Jysy told him. "I learned about them last spring – met a few – when we accompanied Talons to a meeting of deities for the sharing out of the spoils from the soul-vault at Dragonshead. That's where we picked up a few of their words."
The image of her slain sister romping with the Badree Nym on that long ago spring brought the pressure of tears behind her eyes. She held the backs of her hands against them until she mastered herself. While getting Jimi free, she told him the story as Dynarien had told her, Arruth, and Talons one afternoon.
The Night-Elves of Imralon were the result of the intermarriage of a special group of humans and sylvans. Willodarus had had a dalliance with a lovely sun god on a distant world during the early part of the Age of Renewal nearly twenty millennia ago. When a volcanic eruption threatened a castle and four small villages of her worshippers, Willodarus opened an enchantary-gate and transported the inhabitants to his new world. Now their individual languages and culture were blended almost past recognition.
They sat for a long time in silence when Jysy finished the story. She sucked in a deep breath, thinking hard about what she wanted out of life and it all came down to Jimi. Jysy shoved her tunic over her head, revealing her small, but well-formed breasts, her high nipples, and the full, curving swell of the underside.
"Jysy..." Jimi gasped, his body reacting. "I don't think this is right."
She gave him a sad smile. "I can't get pregnant. Not ever. The healers told me... I'm damaged goods. I'm too scarred inside."
Jimi shook his head. "I don't care. It's just that you're so young..."
She laughed through a curtain of tears, torn by sorrow and patched by a need for hope. "I'll be of age in a year and a half." Jysy slipped out of her pants.
His glance went to the black thatched triangle between her legs, rose to her breasts with an expression of longing, and settled on her dark eyes. The edges of his lips softened, and the corners of his eyes followed, as he rocked back on his haunches, casting his gaze at the straw beside her as a flush flamed across his face. "Jysy..."
"Old enough to fight and die, old enough to love," she quoted the old Sharani proverb. Legal age for Sharani was fifteen, the time when the kyndi released their fertility to blossom – but that would never happen for Jysy.
Jysy reached out, took his hands, and placed them on her breasts. "We could be dead tomorrow, give me today."
A sharp intake of breath from him told her that she was melting Jimi's resistance.
He circled the aureole with his finger in a tentative, yet hungry manner, as if afraid to touch the nipple in the center.
"Virgin?" she whispered in his ear.
"Yes," he confessed, embarrassment on his face and heavy in his voice.
"I'll teach you." She undressed him, stroking and kissing every part of him. He imitated her, followed her directions, and strove to please her. Jysy reclined in the clean, fragrant straw of the oddly pleasant cell, and put her legs on his shoulders.
The moment had come.
Jimi hesitated, with his weight on his arms.
"Enter. The door is open," Jysy said.
Her hard, athletic body curled forward, her hand slipped to his loins, and she guided him inside.
A soft, low moan escaped him as her warm, wet lips closed around him and he went deep into the core of their pleasure.
At least, if the Night-Elves decided to execute them, she would have had Jimi before she died.
* * * *
Akira came to his feet as Willodarus entered the outer great hall and turned towards his son's rooms. The Night-Elf warleader followed his liege-god in silence for a time. Akira had served Willodarus for two millennia and they were, after a fashion, friends. So Akira encouraged his master to speak. "The paladin, wife of your son, Holy One?"
"She died." He shook his mossy head. "But I caught her soul and so long as my stasis holds, we may yet revive her."
"And the children?"
"Edouina is a bi-kyndi master. She took the children into her own body before Talons died."
"Thanks be to the creation."
They walked down the halls to Dynarien's rooms.
The healer rose from working on Dynarien to face Willodarus, bowing. "Holy One," he spread his hands in a gesture of futility. "I have never seen anything like this."
The healer, Fusaaki, was very young, not quite five hundred years old, but well skilled and highly regarded among the Night-Elves who dwelled within and about the palace. Willodarus placed his hand upon the young mon's shoulder in a gesture of reassurance.
"Be at peace, Fusaaki. Let me see what I can discern from my son's wounds. You must attend Edouina. She suffers from exhaustion. Be gentle with her. Her na'halaef has died. Her ba'halaef is grievously wounded."
Fusaaki bowed and withdrew.
Willodarus laid his hand on Dynarien's forehead, feeling the fever burning through him. "What did I sense, when I sent you my power?"
He pulled a chair up and sat down, grasped his son's wrist. His eyes fell upon the blackened flesh around the wounds in Dynarien's arm, and he knew what he would find. Willodarus began to Read him. Venom raged through his son's wounds, coursing in his blood. It felt ancient, powerful, and familiar. He had not seen anyone suffering from its effects in millennia, just as he had not known of anyone poisoned with the drug that struck down Talons in that time. An evil from his past had risen up and struck them both down. It was no accident that those who nearly killed Dynanna did so at the same time, the same moment that Dynarien battled that ancient evil to which Willodarus could not yet set a name to.
Dynarien snarled in a fever dream. Willodarus bent close to listen and the young god said it again. Willodarus stiffened and then straightened.
"Gylorean Galee. My fallen angel. Never did I dream she walked the earth again."
"Lord?" Akira asked, startled by the vehemence in his voice. Willodarus was slow to anger, but once roused the fires would burn for centuries.
"Lemyari. Demon-vampire. Six thousand years ago I chained her to a rock in the deepest pit of hell I could find and left her there to perish. I filled it with demons that feed on the undead and sealed it. She was ancient even then. A venomous creature, she injects her poisons with her nails. She is the get of a demon on a mortal woman of lamian descent. She embraced a vampire to increase her powers." His eyes hooded for a moment and then he shook himself free of his memories. Galee had struck him a hard blow. Dynarien was more than a favorite child, he was the only son Mariko had given him and therefore prince and heir of Imralon. Should Willodarus perish first, his divine power in all its vastness would pass to Dynarien. But if Dynarien died first... Galee would have slain another prince. His power could not pass to the others and Dynanna could not handle it. Galee had slain his first wife and their son. He had not known until later that Galee was responsible for their deaths, or he would have destroyed her when they fought.
He rose and departed the room. Servants waited just beyond the doors. Willodarus turned to them and said, "Have Fusaaki join me beneath the banyan tree when he finishes with Edouina. I will tell him what needs to be done for my son. You will send for me if there is any change. And have Mariko
summon my swan-mays."
Willodarus crooked his finger at Akira. "Come, my warrior, show me your prisoners. I know none of them are Galee for I would have felt her presence."
Akira bowed and preceded his liege-god to the little dungeons dug into the north corner of the palace. They were rarely used. He indicated the room where he had thrown his prisoners.
Willodarus opened the shutter on a little square window and peered through the bars. He cocked his head in surprise. "Jysy? What are you doing here?"
Jysy's face burned. "I grabbed Dynarien as he started to Jump. Jimi grabbed me."
Willodarus smiled at the image it made in his mind. "Let them out, Akira. You imprisoned the paladin's young squire," he said in Night-Elf.
"Yes, Holy One." Akira produced the keys and opened the door. Jysy boiled out, swarming into the ancient god's arms.
Willodarus hugged her, kissing the top of her head fondly. He treasured all young creatures, even humans. Jimi followed, glancing tentatively at Akira as he passed him.
"And who is your young friend?"
"This is Jimi, leader of the knights," Jysy told him.
Willodarus extended his twiggy hand and grasped Jimi's. "Already a knight and so young?"
Jimi's cheeks flushed. "Not exactly, Holy One."
"Akira, have food and drink brought to the banyan tree."
Akira bowed assent and left them. Willodarus led the pair out into the inner courtyard and settled beneath the central trunk of the tree. As they sat down beside him, Willodarus put his palms on each side of Jysy's head. "Let me give you our language, young ones. You will probably be here for a while. I will do so for both of you, then we will talk about what happened to Talons, Dynarien, and Edouina. And where is your sister?" The god had a great fondness for young creatures of all kinds, their joyfulness at simply being alive. That was one of the things that had drawn him to Jysy and Arruth that long ago time.
Tears welled in her eyes. "Dead. She was murdered."
"I'm sorry," Willodarus wiped the tears away.
Jysy told him about her sister's death, the tale of Talons' forced marriage, of how the knights had suspected treachery, and uncovered it too late to act, and finally of how the battle in the chapel had gone.
"So," Willodarus said when she finished. "The ancient monster is slain at last." That eased his heart. The God-Slayer was dead.
"Dynarien ripped her head off," Jysy said, with grim relish.
"Gylorean Galee came to me in the days after we had forced the Hellgod into the north and sealed him behind the Katal Escarpment which we raised to hold him, his wives, and minions. We were all, the nine of us, exhausted. She came in the guise of one of my sylvans and became my lover. At first I did not know what she was and, in my exhaustion, did not look. By the time I knew her nature, it was too late. She had wrought havoc among my peoples. We fought and I defeated her, but I did not have the heart to destroy her myself. Instead, I left her bound to a rock in a pit of Hell which I filled with such monsters as feed on the undead and I sealed it."
"What about Talons and Dynarien?" asked Jimi.
"Young ones, your paladin has died."
Jysy's face crumpled. Jimi pulled her into his arms and held her.
"It is not within my power to defeat death. However, I placed her in stasis quickly enough that we may yet find a way to revive her. Hadjys will not allow me to hold her spirit indefinitely – a dozen years perhaps, but certainly no more than that."
"What about Dynarien?" Jimi asked.
"My son was grievously injured. His fate is still in doubt. Galee was a powerful foe. As to Edouina, I sense her presence in the orchid gardens."
* * * *
Edouina sat upon the cool, dark soil among the ferns and orchids. She had resisted Fusaaki's attempts to send her to bed. She did not want to sleep. Her body cried out for it, but she fought it off. She had watched Talons die, seen her soul rise from her body and be captured by Willodarus. It hurt. Talons walked the corridors of her memories. Not the suffering, bed-ridden creature she had become, but the matchless paladin of the Dark Judge she had been before she was trapped by circumstances. Edouina felt hollow and lost for the first time in her life. She could not remember a time when Talons had not been there. Duty would separate them for a time, but they always returned to each other. She felt as if Talons was still out there somewhere, if she could just figure out how to find her. Talons was not gone, she was just away and would return. They would sit and share their stories, fill the night with love... Talons liked orchids. She had first seen them on an island along the southern most tip of the eastern coast. Dynarien brought her orchids from this garden during her illness. How Talons would have loved this garden!
Edouina folded her arms across her belly, feeling their three daughters kicking. Their movement comforted Edouina and she smiled through a veil of tears. If Willodarus had not intervened, she would have died reaching for them.
"You will be strong like your ma'arams. I will teach you and you will never be trapped as she was. Takhalme has no claim to you. I repudiate him in her name. I repudiate all connections to the throne of Creeya. I repudiate all things that would lock you in a cage and call it duty. Your only duty will be to yourselves and your god. Not to kings and thrones who would have you lie down and die unresisting in the name of duty. I repudiate it!" With each sentence, Edouina's voice rose until it carried like a war cry through the garden, echoing. "I'm going to hunt them down and kill them. Every one of them."
Then she began to cry, her grief and anger forcing its way from the pit of her stomach, up her throat and between her lips in struggling, racking sobs. Two pairs of arms closed around her, holding and comforting. She looked up at Jysy and Jimi. She wrapped her arms around them in a group hug. "I don't know how you got here, honnies, but I'm glad you are."
* * * *
Edouina sat beside Dynarien's bed, her fingers twined through his, her eyes distant, thoughts turned inward, trying not to let her gaze stray to the wounded arm stretched on the opposite side of him, pale against the delicate print of dark blues and roseate birds of the coverlet. She lifted his hand to her lips, kissing each finger and then pressed the back to her cheek. Tears came grudgingly. She swallowed, refusing to cry. The time for tears would be when the debts were paid. At least he had slain the creature.
"Ah, honey, you can't leave me. You know you can't."
Willodarus watched her from the door, and then entered.
"Edouina," Willodarus said, his voice soft and his touch gentle on her cheek as he settled his tall frame onto a chair beside her. "Have faith, my son is strong."
"I don't understand. I thought Galee was a vampire..."
"Galee was a prime Lemyari. I suspect–" The god hesitated a moment. "I thought we had slain them all. Servants of the Glistening One. A race of demon vampires bred from lamias and serpent fiends. Galee was the most potent of them all. Much is made clear that I did not understand about this lineage ... now that I know for certain that Galee is their founding blood."
"He's become so weak..." Edouina stroked his red-blond hair, moving a strand from his forehead, feeling the returning fever. "Can't you put a stasis on him as you did Talons?"
"No. His soul is too fragile. Waejonan shattered it in the rite and a piece of it still resides in the Legacy. There is nothing I can do. You and the children will be taken care of. I have proclaimed your triading to all the gods, from the greatest to the smallest. Lovers and children are many, marriages are rare."
"I did not plan on being widowed on my wedding day."
"There is something I would ask of you." Willodarus extended a long piece of twisted cord to Edouina. "Is this the kind of spellcord they used to bind my Twice-Born Son in Creeya?"
Edouina's eyes widened as a cold shiver ran down her. "Yes. That's it exactly. I'll never forget the purple – it's like livid-flesh. I've never seen that used before. Where did you get it?"
"LorenRain's body has been found and was returned to
me this morning. He was taken in the rite. My creatures tell me it was Mephistis who took him. They bound him with these. They have not been seen since the godwar more than twenty thousand years ago, before we began to cleanse Merezia, Jedrua and Ursarius to make them fit for human and sylvan life. He lay in the ruined temple to the Glistening One."
"I am sorry for your loss," Edouina wrapped her arms around him. "This is the second time you have mentioned the Glistening One. Who is she? What is she?"
"We do not know. She never appeared during the godwar. We believe she is or was a wife of Bellocar. Even Ishla knows little of her, save that her cults were secretive and murderous."
"Could she still be out there?"
Willodarus shook his head. "I cannot imagine how she could have hidden herself from us so long. Every temple we have found was broken. She has never risen against us and we have found no sign of anyone worshipping her."
"I don't mean to argue with deity, but that does not mean she isn't." Edouina went very cold and still inside, finding herself thinking like Guild and clutching Dynarien's hand tighter. Her other hand drifted to her stomach, feeling the babies. "I'll take all the help you can offer with the children ... because I'm going to get her for this."
Willodarus nodded with eyes of infinite sorrow, and all the depths of the forests reflected in their light. "Then you must see the handfasting gifts that have begun to arrive." He rose and went in search of Fusaaki.
* * * *
Willodarus found Fusaaki in the Garden of Thought, contemplating in a circle of pungo trees, their tentacle like folded fronds drooping to his shoulders. He started to rise when he saw Willodarus enter.
"Holy One," he bowed his head and shoulders. "You must tell Edouina the truth. Your son is dying. Trade Kalirion Dynanna to save him."
"Kalirion would lock her in his garden. She would wither to death even in a pleasant cage. Dynanna was not meant for cages. I will not trade the life of one child for another. Think of something else. I refuse to believe that you cannot think of something else to try."