Lightfoot

by Joe Kuster

  Time passed, but the ecstasy continued. His mouth grew dry, and his senses dulled. His hips thrust, searching for still more until they too stilled from fatigue. He whimpered at each release, trapped in a circle of lust.

  “Yes, that’s it… more…” voices whispered.

  Feminine moans reverberated, swallowing him entirely. “Ooohh, yeah, just like that…”

  Stop.

  “Oh, yes. Harder.”

  Please, stop. It’s a trick.

  “More.”

  TJ, you’re killing me. Please…

  “Mmmm… I need you.”

  You need to fight what they are doing. It’s not real, but you’ll die if I stop the flow.

  “More, oh, baby. Just focus on me.”

  A soft sobbing sound broached his consciousness.

  Please, I’m too weak to keep this up. You need to stop. It’s not real. I’m so sorry, I never meant for it to do this to you.

  “Just one more should do it…”

  Sniffles sounded from somewhere impossibly far away.

  I can’t hold on much longer. I love you, TJ. I… I only wish I could hold you one last time.

  Darkness swallowed his senses as the tender embrace of his unseen lovers faded.

  Time passed, unseen and unfelt as he lay motionless in the void.

  Screams different from throes of passion burbled somewhere deep in his subconscious. Sounds of something heavy being dragged over stone scraped against his inner ear like a nail on a chalkboard.

  Metal rattled and clinked, and a soft voice spoke, but he couldn’t make out the words.

  Something wet was poured down his throat. He coughed but was too weak to fight back. His mind lurched at the sensation of drowning. He gasped and sucked in a sharp lungful of stale air.

  He feebly tried to move his head but couldn’t muster the strength.

  A shock of cold water washed over his head, causing him to splutter. Hands pulled at him again, but they were far rougher than expected. Something bitter was poured into his mouth. He fought against it, but a hand firmly clamped over his mouth until he managed to swallow. A soft warmth slid down his throat and into his belly.

  With grunts of effort, the hands lowered him to the floor. His head was then cradled to someone’s chest as they rocked back and forth.

  “Come on, TJ. You can’t die on me. You’ve gotta heal yourself,” a voice said from far away.

  His lips moved, but no words came out.

  The sound of soft cursing reached his ears, but he couldn’t place the details. Thick fog blanketed his mind, dampening any hope of responding. He could hear multiple voices and they seemed to be arguing.

  “Damn it, I can’t do this without your help,” the voice tried. It then pleaded, “Serina, forgive me.”

  TJ felt skin pressed close to his face as something sharp pierced his lip. He grunted, trying to pull away. Warmth welled up, pooling on his lips before dripping free.

  Sniffling followed by a shuddering breath was followed by a soft tongue lapping his wound in hesitant motions. It backed off, and there were more voices of disagreement. More arguing came, this time much louder. Finally, lips forcefully closed over his and sucked hard at the wound. His magic twisted as something played with his core.

  The press of strange magic shifted in his chest. He hadn’t realized it was there until it began lifting him, making him feel impossibly light. Something soft was wrapped around his body.

  Kallista’s voice echoed in his mind, “TJ, I order you to heal yourself.”

  Responding to her of its own will, his magic rocked back and forth. It felt dusty and unused at first. It gained momentum and began slowly circulating through his body. It burbled and fizzed as it began sizzling away the paralytic drugs.

  TJ was suddenly aware that his heart was hammering in his chest at a mile a minute. He’d been fed poison. Multiple poisons, in fact. The drugs were causing his body to shiver and his heart to speed up, but he sensed that was all that was keeping it going.

  Words tumbled through his lips, but they were the incoherent ramblings of a half-started brain. His magic continued to flow, feeling sluggish as it struggled to get up to speed.

  Focusing on Kallista’s voice, he pushed on their bond and found her right in front of him, only inches from his face. He cracked a bleary eye, and the light pierced his skull, causing him to snap his eyes shut. Groaning, he tried again, only getting a smear of light.

  She brought a damp cloth to his face and wiped at his eyes gently. The crusted bits were painfully flaked away. As the rag was removed, he tried again and could barely make out her blurry face in front of him.

  His magic continued moving unbidden, working away at her command while the delirium remained. His brain didn’t feel connected to his body. Instead, he poked, and he felt… magic. Strange magic. It took him another minute to figure out he was under a spell’s influence. He pushed, but it was anchored hard around his core. His magic felt too far away to touch.

  Whatever he’d been hit with was some type of potent domination charm, and it seemed like Kallista had his reins. His thoughts began to form full sentences in his head as he started to panic but was otherwise unable to move beyond blinking. His heart thundered in his chest as he realized the scope of his situation. He’d ended up under a curse of some sort. His body was no longer his own.

  All the terrible things she could do to him flitted through his mind rapid-fire. He’d made her a slave, but now he couldn’t even move without her ordering him to do it.

  His eyes dully followed her as she shifted before him. Kalli whispered a prayer to Serina, then cautiously placed a kiss on his lips. She jerked away, looking angry, then wiped the blood away from her mouth as she spat on the floor. The spell shattered, causing an explosion in his core as he was released from the charm.

  “Kalli?” he mumbled.

  She nodded. “Thank fucking Serina. I thought you were beyond saving, shithead.”

  His head began clearing as his magic rushed through his being, zipping off to fix things left and right. Meanwhile, his brain felt overcooked, and his lip was still bleeding freely. His body, however, was back under his control.

  As he looked inward, his core was beyond overflowing. His magic was compressed tight and vibrating as though it might explode. “I… I don’t understand. What happened?”

  “As far as I can tell, you were knocked out and hit with a blood magic of some sort. I took it over, then broke it,” she said.

  He rubbed at his throbbing skull. “What? Blood magic… You did what?”

  Kallista hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Bitch had you imprisoned in some sorta dream state. I guess it’s a blood mage curse to keep you compliant. They were siphoning off divine essence from that glow you get. I made the mistake of locking her up before she canceled the spell. I didn’t know it’d require physical contact to control and break, so she had to walk me through taking it over. Sorry about the lip; I guess that’s how her magic works. You taste really strange, by the way.”

  At the mention of his lip, he thumbed at the hole she’d pierced through it. He was pretty sure she’d used her fangs to do the job. His magic would catch up to it eventually, so he wasn’t overly concerned. More worrisome was the fact his chest was thumping a mile a minute.

  “I feel like my heart is ready to explode,” TJ groaned out.

  Kallista gave an apologetic wince. “Yeah, so I kinda had to use my poisons on you. You were pretty much gone. Glad I learned that little trick to fake a heart attack. It’s all I could think of to get you moving. I, uh, was afraid Serina would consider it breaking my oath.”

  TJ sat up slowly and grimaced. His lips were dry and cracked, and his skin felt raw. His robes had been piled over him like a blanket, but he had obviously been stripped. He was on the floor of a stone cell.

  Next to him, a platform with steel restraints loomed menacingly. Vials that glowed with brilliant golden light were stacked around it. He could see another cage
built into the wall on the other side of the hallway. Several men and women were piled in tight, hands resting against the bars as they eyed the pair curiously.

  Each of them had black horns, but their skin tones ranged everywhere from dark blue, red, and pink, and a few could pass for human colorations in dark browns and pale complexions. One and all seemed to fall into the ‘pretty’ category, if not ‘push your spouse in front of a moving carriage just to get their name’ territory.

  Gaining his bearings, he pushed over the bonds. Faith was nowhere to be found, indicating she’d been dispelled somewhere in the process. Probably when they’d drained him entirely at some point.

  Abby and Rachel were near each other and sleeping. He focused on their bodies. They seemed unharmed, but he could sense that their hands and feet were bound. They were perhaps six hundred yards over his left shoulder, possibly more. Of course, he had no idea how to get there.

  TJ eyed the prisoners again, then Kallista. The Novenary didn’t look any worse for wear, but the cage was locked shut. They didn’t exactly look all that upset either. If anything, they seemed to be leaning forward and eagerly listening in on their conversation. He cocked an eyebrow as he studied Kallista’s inky black eyes.

  She explained, “I, uh, ordered them in there. Like Izzala said, it seems they know my bloodline just by looking. When I finally cornered one alone, they said that the oath magic will force them to do what they were told or risk Timarat killing them, but it turns out I can order them around if it doesn’t explicitly conflict with their current task. Their slave oath is still there, but they seem to want to follow my orders instead. I asked this batch to get into a cell. They didn’t even try to fight it since they haven’t been told to avoid doing that. I have no idea why, but it works. Must be some sort of loophole in their oath’s wording.”

  TJ groaning and rubbed at his aching forehead. “If there’s religious magic bullshit, why wouldn’t there be royal magic bullshit? That, or maybe they are just fighting the oaths they’ve been given, and it’s not magic at all.” He pondered it for a bit then said, “You know what? Fuck it, I’ll take the help.”

  He glanced down at the cork-topped glass bottles as a memory hit him. In a cold panic, he pawed his magical connection to Serina. He could barely feel the dim glow of her presence, and it seemed to be fading. Her heart thudded dully, and her breathing was uneven. His magic pulsed angrily, smashing back and forth. It tried to pump his essence upstream, but nothing seemed to work.

  TJ said through a clenched jaw. “Shit… they bled Serina dry through me. She’s barely there.”

  Kallista looked at her boots and nodded somberly. “Serina helped me and boosted me as much as she could. You’ve been out for four days, as best I can tell. I wouldn’t have been able to get to you without her help. I killed a fuck-ton of New Order goons as we played the world’s shittiest game of hide and stab. I had to get their numbers down to something I could manage before I rushed in. It’s a bit of a gorefest out there, but I could feel you dying.”

  He pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you, Kalli.”

  She hissed in pain but didn’t let go. He loosened his grip on her and pushed his magic against her body. While not as when they’d met, she was a mess. She had an arrow shaft broken off in her shoulder, her tail had been badly burned, and she had bruises all over her body and had a bloody stab wound in her thigh.

  He split his healing into two streams and aimed one at her. She instantly sighed in relief as the broken bits of arrow slid from her flesh. She went limp in his arms for a bit, then leaned against him, breathing deeply as she adjusted to the lack of pain. She trembled from exhaustion and mental fatigue. Whatever she’d gone through had taken its toll, and she seemed to be on the verge of tears.

  He rubbed at her back. “Worried about me, princess?”

  She huffed in between sniffs. “Fuck you, asshole. I never said that, and I sure as fuck never agreed to let you call me that. The oath made hugs a job requirement. I promised Serina I’d do this, so lay off.”

  “Well, excuse me, princess,” TJ teased.

  The rogue rolled her eyes but didn’t let go. Belying her feigned indifference, her tail had twisted around his middle and ended up with the spade lightly caressing his chest under the cloth of his robes.

  He gently ran a hand through her hair. It was doing its magic thing again and moving from jet black to a bright blue. He gently placed his lips to her forehead and whispered. “I’m sorry I fucked things up. I’ll try to do better.”

  She released him from her tight grip but kept her hands on his shoulders. “So, we’re getting Rachel and Abby now, right? I think I know where they are being kept, but it’ll be a shitshow. They know they are being hunted and are on high alert.”

  Glancing over her shoulder, he glared at Serina’s lifeblood in the jars. The New Order had nearly killed his goddess, along with his group. His jaw clenched involuntarily as his anger grew by the second.

  He had no way of funneling her power back to her. She’d been clear that would be impossible without being anchored. Instead, she was stuck in her realm, dying a slow death, and cut off from what she’d called the flow. Her body would begin crumbling if he didn’t do something soon. What time they thought they had to plan and prepare had been chewed up because these assholes decided they’d use him to power their invasion.

  Pieces of the puzzle began clicking into place, and a burning hatred took hold in his stomach. He’d tried to be nice. He’d tried to just be a charming guy who needed to keep his oaths topped off. He’d even been sympathetic to the conflict between the New Order and the nobility. He could have owned a tavern and been happy, content to spend his days in his cups and his nights with his women while he hired traders to track down spells. Instead, these shitheads had fucked everything up and attacked his goddess.

  TJ growled as he thought through his options. “The plan has changed. We aren’t just here for the herald or the New Order. We’re gonna kill the dungeon.”

  “Wait, what?” Kallista asked, confused.

  TJ picked himself off the floor as his magic continued to restore his body. He really hadn’t been far from dying of dehydration, so every bit of tissue he had was slurping up his healing. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. We’re still gonna fuck up the New Order, but this dungeon is going down.”

  “Uhm, like, kill a dungeon? Why? Fuck that, how?” she asked.

  TJ replied, “It’s a tool of the New Order. It was powering that portal spell for them. That’s how they enslaved your people. Even if we hack them to pieces, do you really think Timarat’s followers won’t use it again? It’s under the seat of the duchy, and they’ll just use it as a weapon if we don’t kill it. I also suspect it’s part of the foundation of this church. I’d say blowing up their dungeon might count as a desecration, and that’s what we need right now more than anything. Serina is going to die if we don’t do something quick.”

  Kallista looked torn but eventually nodded. “Ok, but what about the how part? Dungeons don’t just give up. The King’s Mage Killers are made up of the most powerful magicians and warriors the kingdom has, but they can’t kill the old ones. Even if they can journey through a dungeon, the power sources are always hidden.”

  TJ pocketed a pinky-sized vial then handed her the remaining jugs of golden liquid. As he touched each one, he could feel a crushing tidal wave of power begging to be let out. His magic told him it was so potent a few drops would probably restore his pool entirely. “I’ll tell you in a minute. Here, whatever you do, don’t drop these. I’ve gotta hope we can get it back to Serina somehow. Any chance you know where my gear is?”

  Wordlessly she began pulling piles of equipment from her magical bag. She situated it bit by bit on the nearby bed as he dressed. He reeked so bad from being laid up for days that he resorted to using his magical cleaning spell just to deal with his own funk.

  Personal hygiene concerns dealt with, he took out the mapping kit and spread it out as he stud
ied his position carefully. Their path through the dungeon had them crossing back and forth over numerous levels, but he could still make out the hash marks and notes he’d made. He carefully oriented the map with his compass, preparing.

  He quickly cast the summoning spell for Faith, pulling her from wherever she lived when she wasn’t with him. He then kicked off his magical detection skill, trying to do them so quickly in succession that it appeared only one spell was cast.

  He eyed the room carefully, then leaned close to Kalli. “Here, I’ll tell you the secret that will kill the dungeon.” He then placed his lips directly at her ear but said nothing. His magical senses pressed harder and eventually found something that didn’t belong. It was light, barely there, but it had the same strange feeling of when the dungeon had laughed at them. It was intently listening in.

  He mentally drew a line to its power source and added more bearing reading tick marks to the magical paper spread out in front of him. Taking a straight edge, he connected the other line on his map with his new one.

  Kallista frowned, not understanding what he’d done, but glanced around suspiciously as she picked up on his shift in behavior. Her eyes widened as he circled the spot where his lines connected on the other side of the first locked door they had crossed and filled in the words, ‘Dungeon Core.’

  Chapter 35

  TJ lined up on the warehouse doors and slammed a kinetic blast into the center. The door splintered from its hinges as more than two dozen sets of eyes widened. Inside, disciples were loading crates onto pushcarts. The open ones looked to be full of spears, shields, and armor.

  TJ scanned the room but didn’t see any of Kalli’s people.

  Easing next to a darkened stack of crates, he began, “You motherfuckers have got five seconds to—”

  A sizzling arc of lightning seared through the air, leaving wisps of ozone as it dissipated. The sorcerer began to laugh, expecting TJ’s body to fall to the floor. Instead, he simply wasn’t there. Where he stood was an empty shadow.

  One mage in the back slumped to the ground, his throat slashed to the bone. He frantically waved for help and gurgled as his hand wrapped around the fatal wound. The disciples whirled as another fell, this time with a throwing knife embedded in his eye. He screamed as he clutched at the damage.