by Eric Vall
“I would ride him naked,” Aurora said with a grin, “and I’d learn how to make every inch of my body ignite so people would shriek and run in terror as I flew through the night.”
“I’m willing to make both of those situations happen,” I muttered, and I eyed the weird layout of the hindquarters. “Can I see that book?”
Aurora handed it over while she smirked at Cayla. “The two of us could ride on it at once, and we can use Mason’s chains to thrash our foes from above.”
“You could heat the metal of the chains, too,” the princess mused. “Twice the pain. Hmm … I’m getting really turned on by this whole idea.”
“Me, too,” Aurora snickered. “We’d be feared from one coast to the other, and Mason would be revered as the man who managed to tame the women with the molten chains.”
Cayla moaned in approval, and I cocked a brow at the two women as I looked up from the book.
“I hate to interrupt this, but something over here is off,” I chuckled.
My women and I huddled around the book while we squinted at the tiny diagram, and I couldn’t decide if they’d inverted the placement, or if I’d formed the pelvic socket wrong.
“Maybe these two should be switched?” Aurora guessed, and we began shuffling the bones around to give it a try.
“Is it possible to heat only a portion of the chains without the part we’re holding getting hot?” the princess asked while we worked. “That would be important.”
“Sure.” Aurora shrugged. “I don’t know much about metal, but--”
Shoshanne suddenly cleared her throat, and all of us dropped our metallic dragon bones and whipped around in a panic. I felt myself blush from the guilt of being caught by the healer, and I was ready to make some solid points about metal work not affecting my current physical state.
Then I noticed the tense looks on Nulena and Shoshanne’s faces, though, and they supported Deya between them while the elf avoided my gaze.
“Is she okay?” I asked as my pulse quickened.
“She’s perfectly fine,” Shoshanne replied, but her voice came out so odd, she had to clear her throat before she continued.
“Don’t say fine,” I croaked. “That never means fine. What’s wrong?”
“Gods,” Aurora whimpered, and she clutched my hand like a vise. “What happened in there?”
“Well, I checked her vitals and did … all of the healer stuff,” Shoshanne said as she shifted her weight. “Umm. So, yeah. She’s not sick or anything, she’s just sort of … pregnant?”
“Look Mason, I have a little bump,” Deya murmured as her eyes glittered, and she turned to the side to show off the tiniest bit of a pooch on her belly. “Shoshanne says the baby’s very tiny, but it’s in there, so you don’t have to worry about me hunting anymore. I’m only throwing up because I’m pregnant.”
I knew I was supposed to respond to that, but my tongue had lost its ability to function, so I just stared at the unbelievably gorgeous, pink-haired elf in the lacy white bodice telling me she was going to have my baby. I stared at her glowing, violet eyes and her creamy cleavage, and I stared at the tiny bump she kept running her fingers over while her nervous smile nearly blinded me from how cute it was.
No one moved or spoke a word as the sounds of Falmount faded from my register, and I remained in a catatonic state like this for longer than I could tell.
“But … ” Aurora finally managed as she furrowed her brow. “How are you pregnant so … soon?”
I was catching up to reality now, though, and I was about to say the most stupidly redundant thing when someone else said it for me.
“You’re what?”
My blood turned to ice as I recognized the ominously low tone, and I cringed as I turned to see Dragir standing on the other side of my bridge.
The silver-haired elf was covered in both new and old blood, but what stuck out most about him was the collection of severed elven ears he had strung around his neck like war medals. Big Guy and Big Red flanked him on either side with at least a dozen daggers stuck in their frames, and not only were they just as bloody as Dragir, but they had matching elven ear necklaces, too.
“Oh, hey, man,” I tried in an unnaturally high voice. “Glad you got my note.”
“Fuck your note,” the elf growled, and he pulled a serrated Halcyan sword from his sheath. “We’re going to have a talk.”
I fumbled to unsheathe my sword, but just as quickly, Big Red and Big Guy unsheathed their swords, and they crossed Dragir’s path with their massive blades to block him. Then Cayla and Aurora flanked me with their pistols cocked and loaded, and as Bom Two burst through the western woods with his death machete swinging, my moat of eels went apeshit.
The snapping of their teeth was only slightly quieter than the shrieks of the mages in the lanes, and as my neighbors fled the scene like their asses were on fire, Dragir narrowed his pink, serpentine eyes on me.
“I asked you to do one thing,” the man growled.
“Technically, you asked me to do two things,” I countered. “Not get Deya pregnant, and not let her die. I’m doing really great with one of those things.”
“You son of a--”
“No, it’s not your turn!” Aurora snapped as she raised a hand at Dragir, and the elf flinched like he thought she was about to light him on fire.
Then the half-elf looked at the healer, though.
“Shoshanne, what the hell?” Aurora demanded. “Why does Deya have a cute little bump when none of us have one yet?”
Time slowed down as every cell in my brain popped into a cloud of dust, and I felt my consciousness drift out of my body and hover over the clearing instead.
“Wait,” I mumbled. “Did you say yet?”
Then Shoshanne blushed, and the last thing I saw before I blacked out was the sweet smile on her lips.
End of book 11
End Notes
Thank you for reading Metal Mage 11. Once I hit 100 reviews I’ll start working on the next book! Please leave your reviews here! Thank you!
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Eric Vall