by Guin Archer
“You are fragile, yes, but You are mighty, uum Pasha. I wear Your mark proudly, though I know You do not see our joining as the perfect match I do.” He rumble-purred down at me and I heard the reverent lilt ease back into his voice whenever he referred to me. “I will brag of Your viciousness to my brago when You allow me Your touch and body again. They will know jealousy for Your bloodthirstiness and the great boon I have in having You at my side.”
“Why,” I began sheepishly, then stopped myself. Did I really want to know?
Fuck it. He opened the can of worms to begin with and I needed to know.
“Why did you offer Ruune to me? If I am really your Pasha, you would not want to share me.”
“I do not want to, uum kisa-uu.” His head shook slowly and I heard a deeper clink-chime of a bell. Did he have one on himself, too? I thought I saw one that first day of the Jiktau. “It is not a matter of what I want. It is a matter of what You need.”
“I do not need…I do not…I…” Ah, fuck. I sounded like a blathering idiot. I took a deep breath and tossed my proclamation out there. He’d catch it however he wanted to. “I do not need two los’kah. I do not want one.”
His lips twitched and spread into a smile that was a touch patronizing, but mostly indulgent. He petted my hair, setting off the serah.
“I am selfish. I do not wish to see any los’kah fuck You. However, it is what is best for You. I am not a gentle los’kah. I am often away with my Zikta or on raid. You will need a los’kah to tend where I cannot.” His head canted a little to the side and he hummed faintly. “The Xerbai is a good choice. He is trained as Zikta, though it has been many seasons since he was in practice. He will guard Your body. He is also fit with a kii You will not be so nervous to take inside You.
“Very selfishly, though, I am best pleased that the Xerbai is Blank. It is well-known that their kind cannot beget offspring.” One of his hands palmed the side of my flat stomach. A shiver wracked through me. “Should You bless me with shimi, they will be uumat. Blood of my blood.”
“I-I-I-I,” I stuttered dumbly. I gulped down the gorge that rose in my throat. I shoved his hand away from my midriff with anger. Anger was better – and easier – than heartache. “I cannot have offspring.”
Instead of getting mad or offended, the gargantuan male that thought he was my mate nodded his head solemnly.
“This I know. The rites say Innintani do not beget offspring with Tauren. They prefer their own los’kah and have returned to Skyvryn once their tasks on Intau have come to an end. But I pray to the One that You might favor me, kisa-uu. You hold my heart. It would be my greatest gift to serve You unto death. Here. Here, with our Udon and the shimi we will make together.”
Hold the phone…
There was a lot about what he said that caused the bells and whistles in my head to blare like klaxons on a ship warning of imminent impact. I had a fucking doozy of a time not latching on to his shoulders and shaking the words I wanted to hear out of his tusk-filled mouth.
Home! He said other Innintani went home!
What task did I need to complete? It didn’t matter, I decided. I’d do anything to go back to Earth again. Anything!
I felt a little crazed and my voice shook when I remembered how to string words together to make a sentence again.
“What tasks were the other Innintani charged with when they Fell to Intau?”
“They found their Visivi,” he murmured seductively and stroked my cheek. I pummeled the instinct to bite his fingers in reprimand for ignoring my silent plea for more important and less naughty info. “Just as You have found me. Your dutiful los’kah for all of my life. Your will is mine.”
Jesus fucking…get on with it already!
“Innintani come in times of war and strife, when Tauren have moved too far from the One’s Eye. They Fall to reestablish the One in our souls.”
Okay. Okay. So I needed to pretend to be a messenger from God or the One or whoever. Piece of cake.
There was probably a special place in Hell reserved for people who did that, though.
I was about as far off of being a messenger of God as a Skittle was of being an actual rainbow. It was laughable, and not in the ‘ha ha’ sense. I didn’t even attend church! I used to go to Sunday School as a kid, but then when me and Jeffrey Simms found our own God at the summer picnic…well, Gram was mighty pissed. She beat my ass with a hickory switch for that one. Said she could never show her face to the Bridge Club ladies again.
I can’t fucking do this!
…but home…
If these other Innintani were from Earth like me – because I refused to believe there was such a thing as fallen angels outside of movies and storybooks – and they got to return home, it meant I could, too! I just had to find out how I was going to do it. Whether that meant playing at being Mother Theresa, kissing babies, or spanking ass, I was going to figure it out. I’d wax orc balls – though Tauren were essentially hairless – if it meant getting to see my family and friends again.
“You confuse me,” I admitted to him. I did this for two reasons. The first being that he did confuse me and he needed to know. The second was that I needed to get off the topic of me weaseling my way back home again, by hook or by crook. Kor wasn’t overlord extraordinaire just because he was built like a fucking mountain. The male was smart, too, and I needed to prevent him from sniffing down my trail.
There was a good chance he’d try to stop me.
He grunted at me, but the end of the grunt had an uptick, so I interpreted it as ‘explain, female’.
“You are two different los’kah with me. You are sometimes happy, or at least I think you are, but most other times you are hard and terrifying. I do not know how to handle you. You confuse me.”
“I have told You I am hard los’kah. Tohtahk who are weak in mind or body do not stand long for the Udon. I am as I must be.” He shifted me around in his arms and on his thighs until he could brush his bullring against my temple sweetly. “Above all, I am Your Drake and Dorai. The Udon commands my blade. You command my kii. The Udon has my spirit. You have my soul. To You I kneel, always, though I may not express it.”
See? Smart. This dude is a clever fox and he’ll have plundered my chicken coop to nothing but a few feathers if I don’t keep a wary eye out for him.
We were coming up on the Udon with Sekhmet’s unbridled speed. It was a good thing, too, because I needed a bit of alone time to think.
My brows furrowed, though, when I saw the metastasized rear of the nomadic Tauren. I leaned more around my Mahzri’s back to see the group clearer.
“It is bigger.”
“Aichi. One of the bands has joined us for a spell. They will stay with us until Mel’lau.”
“Huh,” I huffed lowly.
As though he’d been waiting for him, Roprah was bounding our way with his eyeless gaze on Kor. In turn, Kor eased me further forward on Big Mama’s back and out of his lap. His hand trailed languidly down my spine.
“I would prefer You to retire to Your omma, but I sense You will not be obliging.”
Ooh, lookie-loo. Ain’t he smart.
“I am well here.”
Kor reached around and down, plucking my satchel up. I hadn’t even been aware that he grabbed it when he snatched me up. He sifted through its contents before grunting, taking a uropa out to give to me, and then lashed it shut to hang back with the other bags. His silver eyes landed on me hard.
“You will replenish Your food half-before solset. This is not a request.”
“Yessir,” I returned jauntily while making a horrible imitation of a two-finger salute. He scowled at me.
“I normally find joy in Your words. I do not like this one.” He grunted. “Do not make this sound again.”
Sure. Whatever.
I nodded.
Kor swung his legs up and back, bringing himself to crouch on Sekhmet’s back. For my part, I blinked a little dazedly up at him. I was glad, too, that he had on his d
ark trou instead of the kilts because, even if he’d had the bitch tucked in, I’d have tried to get a peep at his dick.
I’m a woman. It’s inherent in me to be a slut. So sue me.
I reached out and gripped one of his ankles. He went preternaturally still under me.
“I have one more question.”
“What is it, uum Taytani?”
“Why are your eyes silver now? How did they change?”
His smile was a little wicked and a lot sultry. He cupped my chin – more like my whole jaw and half my neck – and stroked his thumb over my lower lip. Veins of blue-black-purple shot through his eyes like lightning bolts before dissipating.
“Your power, Innintani. It grew my skol so that they were able to bleed into my eyes. Now all know that I am Yours.”
On that creepy pronouncement, Kor leapt from Sekhmet’s back with his leonine grace and onto the scant saddle of his own Mahzri. He barked a sound to the beast without once looking back at me and then they were bounding off to the front of the Udon.
Nuts. This was all fucking nuts.
Looking down to the fruit pinched between my thighs, I grimaced. I needed to find a knife to cut through the rind and that would mean sidling up to the itchto burdened by slaves. Which also meant risking the censorious glares of my own attendants, whom I’d snuck away from to heal the rest of the slaves I was strictly forbidden from before.
Peachy.
Deciding there was nothing for it if I wanted to eat, and my growling stomach told me I did, I whispered my desire up to Sekhmet. She bobbed her head in understanding, going so far as to reach back with an arm to pet my feet at an angle I thought too awkward to manage, and kicked up her speed.
The newer members of our branch of the Udon were openly staring at me. I strangled the want to squirm under their black gazes and instead sat up straight. I needed to be their Messenger or whatever and that meant I needed to be brave. Be strong. Be a bad-bitch.
Fake it ‘til you make it.
Big Mama was a bit of a snake in the grass by taking me directly to one of the three itchto that belonged to me. Well, it belonged to the Tohtahk and my precious Innintani ass got to use it. Either way, there were so many belongings in the pillau when it was assembled, there needed to be multiple itchto to cart it around. I thought it was silly to have so much if you didn’t bed down for long enough to enjoy your things, but what did I know? There weren’t any deserts or nomadic people in my city on Earth.
Tan, not surprisingly, was the one scowling hardest at me. I halfway expected her to tap her foot with her arms crossed. If she were my Ma, she’d have launched into a spiel about how inconsiderate and stupid I was. She wouldn’t be wrong, either.
Still, Tan didn’t do anything my Ma would’ve. Instead, she gathered dried foods from a crate and gourds with silent admonishment in her eyes. She filled a satchel just like the one I already had and, via Sekhmet, we traded our burdens.
You were a bad girl, Io, I could practically hear her say.
I pinched my lips shut to keep from arguing against a voice I only heard in my head instead of from her mouth and secured the satchel to the saddle behind me. Once it was set, I pressed a hand to the upper swell of the uropa tucked tight between my thighs. My fingers drummed against the hard rind.
“I need a blade,” I told her finally.
Tan stood on the edge of the itchto by the shallow, hinged wall. She held out a hand, clearly meaning to take the fruit from me to cut it herself. I shook my head.
“I want a blade.”
“Uum Taytani, Innintani have no need of blades, either for protection or labor. I will prepare the uropa for You.” Her argument was calm, but firm. I shook my again, this time firmer.
“Give me a blade.”
“Innintani,” she tried to deny me again, but Ruune called out from the other itchto, drawing my attention to him. I beamed when I saw the hilted blade in his right hand and a knowing smile on his face. Shree was behind him and securing a trunk shut with numerous locks and buckles. It was clear where the blade came from.
Even as I rode towards them, I could hear Tan growling in upset. I stopped to give her a baleful eye.
“Tan, you are sweet and I appreciate everything you do for me, but you will not keep telling me what I can and cannot do. I have taken care of myself for a very long time now and been through more than you can imagine.” My eyes narrowed. “I do not want to, but if we are going to keep having problems, I cannot have you as one of my kut.”
Tan looked properly stricken by my words. Horrified. She hit her knees and began babbling so quickly in the Tongue that I couldn’t keep up. She locked her hands together in front of her chest, just under her chin, and prayed.
I sighed deeply. I didn’t want to get her as worked up as she was, just let her know that she couldn’t keep tattling on me or trying to command obedience from me. She needed to know that she was on notice.
“Do not be afraid, Tan. I like you. I do not want you to not be mine anymore.” I could see Mari’et peering at me from behind my ‘first’ attendant’s prostrate form. An idea struck me and I hoped I wasn’t making a huge mistake. “Mari’et knew me in Blackburhn and she is new to being kut. Perhaps you two can speak? Tan, you would be an excellent guide for Mari’et. You can show her everything she needs to know and she can tell you more about what life was like for me before the Tohtahk blessed me with you.”
“Yes, uum Taytani. Your will be done.”
Mari’et was close enough to me, familiar enough, that she knew what I was about. Whether we wanted it to be so or not, she was just as much a slave now as I ever had been. While she served the sick and injured as a healer, she didn’t know how to be a slave. Tan could help her to acclimate where I couldn’t – being as I was always in the omma or being carried around by Sekhmet – and she, in turn, could temper some of Tan’s more stringent practices as a slave. It was clear she was dedicated to me, but she needed to wind it down or I’d lose my shit with her.
No more ratting me out to Kor to get me to behave.
Sekhmet sidled us up to Ruune. She pivoted sideways so I could take the dagger directly from him.
It was a pretty thing. The hilt was black with mother of pearl inlaid into it in a spiraling pattern. The sheath wasn’t spectacular, a plain black carrier with two leather straps so it could presumably be secured to a limb, but the blade beneath was gorgeous. The metal glimmered so bright, it was like an unblemished mirror. There were accents of onyx-hued metal weaving into a glyph-design along the reverse side of the blade. It looked more ornamental than practical, but when I slid my finger along the sharpened edge, my thumbpad split immediately and bled.
I sucked my thumb into my mouth.
“Dashka,” I mumbled around my digit as my girl decided she’d had enough of standing idle.
She carried us back into the throng of our enlarged Udon as I carved silently into my fruit.
It was nearing nightfall and I was strumming competently on my lyre when I saw it.
Another omma.
I blinked at the woven basket dazedly, sure for at least a few moments that it was mine. But no, my omma was woven from a greyish-white frond or husk. This one was tannish-brown. Where my canopy was gauzy charcoal, this one had a brown curtain. It was being ferried by two Mahzri, just as mine was, though there wasn’t a female guarding it like mine.
When I heard a voice echoing out from it, I was beyond excited. I all but shoved my lyre back into one of the saddlebags and patted excitedly on Sekhmet’s arm.
“There,” I pointed and ordered her. “There. I want to go over there.”
She didn’t fight me on it. Didn’t even voice a protest. She just trotted away from the smaller female she was nuzzling and chatting with to do my bidding. I was all but bouncing on my cushioned seat with excitement.
Someone else. There was another person like me!
I barely contained myself from yanking the canopy open when we reached the front of it. Big M
ama walked ahead of the omma so I wasn’t having to strain to look around her to see the basket. Instead of yanking or knocking, I fisted my hands tightly in my lap – be a good girl, Io – and leaned way forward over Big Mama’s flank.
“Greetings,” I called out loudly and with too-much excitement to be healthy. Then, in English because I didn’t know if this person could speak the Tongue or not, “Hello!”
No response. I didn’t let it deter me.
“How long have you been here? God, it seems like forever for me. How are you? Do you wanna talk? Can you speak English?”
“I do not understand your words,” a light-ish, feminine voice puttered out from the omma. I saw the woman shift inside, barely, in the dim light of the crescent moon. She was speaking in the language of the Lubrei. “You speak as I do?”
“Oh, yes! I speak the Tongue very well.” I was a little disappointed that I still didn’t have anyone to speak English with, someone from my real home, but my bubble couldn’t be popped. “Where do you come from? I am from Denver. I was born in Indiana, but I moved to Colorado to open my own tattoo shop.”
“I do not know what you are talking about.” The woman harrumphed like I was bothering her. “I am from Mel’lau. I am Rahvashti. Whoever you are, you have no right to speak to me so freely or openly.”
“You…” A sinking feeling set itself in my guts. “You are Lubrei? You are not from Earth?”
“Of course I am Lubrei! I am no lesser biis’a.” She growled then in a very Tauren way. My heart clenched to match my sinking stomach. “If you are a new Pasha, you must be made aware that I can have you whipped for daring to speak to me. I am above all others.”
Fucking cunt. That’s what you are, you conceited bitch.
Even without being able to see her, I knew she was going to look just like the ‘Housewives’ I saw with Gaddi the first time I met her. Maybe younger. Maybe prettier. It wouldn’t matter, though. She could be little Miss This Universe. Her personality sparkled about as much as a lump of blackened coal and I didn’t want anything to do with her if she was going to be a snotty bitch.