by Sam Ryder
Misha continued her rant. “If you must know, I was a Seeker when I left. I found pretty things and gave them to the Three. I thought it was an important task, but now I know better. I never saw any of those pretty things again.”
I swallowed thickly. I’d seen them. All of them, collecting dust in an old cave. I mean, shit, I’d bedded two of the goddesses next to the very room filled with artifacts while the third goddess slumbered. Suddenly I felt horrible for that, like I was a spy in their midst. That wasn’t true, of course—I wasn’t loyal to the Three—but still… “I’m sorry,” I said lamely because I could think of anything else to say.
“Don’t be,” Misha said, brightening considerably. “I’m happy now. We have safety in numbers. We do as we choose. Yes, we fight the crawlers, but this forest is worth fighting for.”
“How did you find Bu—Bu’ploog…” I’d almost said Buttplug. “…and his tribe?”
“This was my territory when I was a Seeker,” she said simply.
“What?” This was news to me. “I thought all the Seekers went to Annakor.”
“What? Of course not. This is a large planet. There are many things to be found. Ursula’s Forest has many hidden wonders.”
I felt like an idiot. Fighting the demons and monsters in the bleak stretch between the gully and Annakor made one forget that this was a tiny corner of a much larger world. I wondered what else was out there. I made a mental note to ask the Three if I made it back to camp.
“Who is Ursula?” I asked.
With that, all heads turned toward their leader, who’d been content to observe the conversation. Bu’ploog said, “Ursula is…was…creepahs’ mothah. She be dead now, but her forest lives on.”
~~~
As usual, I had a million more questions, and the women seemed happy to answer them all, but Buttplug eventually waved his arm and said it was time to rest and that on the morrow we could celebrate Ursula’s death at my hand. The women obeyed without question, which was kind of weird. Then again, who was I to judge a group I knew next to nothing about?
The bed of moss and leaves I’d been assigned was pretty damn comfortable. Belle’s own bed was beside mine, the rest of the beds prepared all around us, filling most of the space inside the massive hollowed-out tree. Soon I heard the relaxing sounds of deep breathing, a cocoon of sound that made me feel safe within the glowing walls blessed by the Three. It was funny that this tribe, whose members disagreed with everything the Three stood for, would find a home inside one of the goddesses’ creations. Then again, it made sense if you thought about it. They probably felt like the Three owed them something after all they’d done to try to help them.
After a few minutes, Belle rolled over onto her side and draped her arm across my chest. I wasn’t sure if I would be leading her on if I left it there, but after what we’d been through together I felt closer to her. It felt…right. This world blurred the lines between so many human emotions, making them melt together and become a single interconnected color. The color of life.
We slept.
~~~
I awoke to, well, an orgy.
I must’ve been pretty exhausted to have slept through the early parts of the revelry, because it seemed to have been going on for some time. Seeing Misha and Belle gyrating against each other, however, was the equivalent of having an entire tub of cold water thrown on my head. I felt like I’d been awake for hours, a triple shot of expresso going right to my brain.
Their breasts were pressed against each other, Belle’s pale skin a beautiful contrast to Misha’s, which was nicely tanned from plenty of time spent under the bronze sun. Their tongues were in each other’s mouths, their legs entwined as they scissored against each other again and again.
I hadn’t even known Belle swung that way. Maybe even she didn’t know it. I knew from experience, however, that the leveling up process did certain things to one’s libido.
The rest of the tribe members were performing other sexual acts on each other, many of them moaning and groaning in ecstasy. I could go into detail about all the…positions…but you’re probably just fine using your imagination to fill in the blanks.
And right in the middle of it all was the giant himself, being pleasured by at least six of the women.
When Bu’ploog had talked about celebrating before we went to sleep, this was not what I’d expected. Not that I was complaining.
“He’s awake,” a voice said. Then another: “He’s awake.” Soon similar murmurs flowed across the space like water down a hill. The women flocked to me, their feet rustling against all the discarded leaf-clothes on the ground.
The next hour was a blur of skin and feeling, which left me more exhausted than I’d been before I’d slept. So much for getting our rest. Again, not complaining. Insert smiley face.
The next part involved sleeping again, except this time we were all naked and pressed together in a little knot, like a litter of kittens. Yeah, my life was beyond weird at this point.
When I awoke the next time, everything was back to normal—or the Ursula’s Forest version of normal. The women were all wearing their leaf-clothes, Buttplug was sitting with his back against the glowing wall, as silent as a statue, and a tantalizing smell had eradicated the scent of sex.
“What is that?” I blurted out, because it wasn’t roasting leafrat.
Belle appeared, carrying a large blue flower in one hand and a wooden plate in the other. The plate was glowing. I made grabby hands at whatever was on the plate, because my nose could tell the tantalizing aroma was coming from it.
“Not so fast,” Belle said, pulling the plate back. “Drink first. You’re probably dehydrated.”
More like definitely, I thought, smacking my lips. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Ick. “Thanks,” I said, accepting the flower. It was filled to the brim with clear liquid, presumably water.
I took a small sip, not wanting to make myself sick by drinking too fast.
Whoa. Definitely not water. The liquid was sweet, but not overly so. Just…perfect. “Mmm,” I said, taking the next swig faster, causing some of it to dribble down my chin. “What is it?”
“Spider piss,” Belle said, dead-pan.
I choked and almost spewed out what was left in my mouth from my third swig, but Belle quickly held up a hand and said, “Just jokin’.” A broad smile crossed her face. “It’s water that’s been in the flower for a while. The flower gives it the taste. Least that’s what Misha told me.” Upon speaking the name of the Asian beauty, Belle flushed slightly.
How cute, I thought. She’s embarrassed. I could’ve prodded her more, said something about how she seemed to be spending A LOT of time with Misha ever since we arrived inside this tree. But I wasn’t a total jerk, at least not all the time. I let it go. “What’s on the plate?” I asked after finishing the last of the flower water.
“Not leafrat,” she confirmed, her cheeks returning to their normal pale hue. “You could call it a steak? It’s from an animal in the forest. Kind of like a deer, but bigger.”
“A moose?” I don’t know why I cared. My lips started watering even before she said the word steak.
“That’ll work. A moose steak. Want it?” She waved the plate temptingly. It was the first time I’d known the southern beauty to be downright evil.
“Pretty please with sugary flower water on top,” I said. Even with only one good arm at my disposal, I wasn’t above lunging for it if she didn’t hand it to me in the next five seconds.
Four…
Three…
She passed the plate to me and I set it on my lap, picking up the steak with my good hand and biting into it. Oh…my…goddesses.
The orgy had been one of the most pleasurable experiences of my life. Taking my first bite of the “moose” steak was in the top ten. It had a smoky taste, but with a hint of spice. The meat was melt-in-your-mouth tender, juices squirting as I chewed. If I was in a position to give out Michelin stars to this establishment, I’d h
ave offered ten. No, scratch that. Ten-teen.
I demolished the steak in sixteen seconds flat. “Ishth there emmy more?” I said, my mouth full of meat.
Belle laughed, reaching out a hand to wipe a bit of juice from my chin. After almost dying together fighting massive spiders and participating in…what we had participated in the night before, such a familiar gesture felt perfectly natural.
She brought me another steak. Then another. I liked this place. I liked this tribe.
And yet, I knew we had to go. Or at least I did. Belle, on the other hand…I watched her laugh as Misha said something. Another of the women chimed in, and soon a whole group of them were laughing and enjoying themselves. For the first time since I’d met Belle, she looked at home, comfortable. They could protect her and teach her how to survive. She was already quickly becoming a fierce warrior. With these women to emulate, she would be just fine.
I hated to lose another Warrior, but I wasn’t so selfish as to try to convince her to return to camp. Or to even go one step further with me. It wasn’t fair to her. I couldn’t live with myself if I stooped so low.
I stood up, feeling kind of wobbly because of my dead arm, which I still couldn’t quite feel. My hammer was nearby, and I stooped to collect it with my good arm. Bu’ploog was watching me. He nodded. “You be welcome ta stay,” he said, but we both knew it was a courtesy offer. This was his domain, and there was only room for one male here. Plus, I had other responsibilities.
Including trying to get help for my ragtag group of Warriors, which involved diplomacy. “Thank you for saving our lives. And for everything. I hope you will remember me fondly and not judge me because of my position.” I didn’t specifically mention the Three given the frowns their name had caused the last time.
“We’s all have our place in this world,” the giant said. “So long as you be Protector, we be a friend ta ya.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but I could tell it was the best I’d get, for now at least.
It was the closest thing I had to an alliance with one of the tribes, so I didn’t risk screwing it up by pushing for details.
Belle stepped away from the other women, in my direction. “We cain’t stay another day? Your arm isn’t fully recovered.”
I approached her, considering my words carefully. I took her hand. “You can stay here another day. You can stay here as long as you like.”
For a split-second her face was completely blank, like my words made no sense to her. This was a woman who’d allowed others to make decisions for her, even if they hurt her. But that wasn’t her anymore. She chose to come with me. She chose to fight the spiders. And now she could choose to stay.
The empty expression morphed into a frown and she said, “I don’t wanna leave you.”
“I’ll be fine. And so will you.”
“Are you going back to camp?” she said, and I could feel how much she wanted to hear me say yes.
I wished I could’ve said yes. I shook my head.
“But your arm.”
“Will heal. The ooze is working. I can feel it.”
A smile without mirth tugged at the corner of her lips. “Thank you, Protector Ryder,” she said. “For everything.”
“Thank you,” I said. “May we meet again. And call me Sam.”
With that, I turned and headed for the door. Only I didn’t know where the door was.
Misha laughed and showed me where the opening was hidden by a large rectangle of bark. She pulled it back enough so I could squeeze through. “Thanks,” I said.
“My pleasure.” She purred the last word, her tongue sliding over her bottom lip. “Sure you don’t want to stay a while longer for some more celebrations.”
What was it with this place? The ooze clearly made us all as horny as rabbits during mating season. Then again, we did fight monsters every night, so blowing off steam was a necessity of life, and as far as I knew there was no alcohol or video games in this place.
“Maybe another time,” I said, forcing one foot in front of the other and hoping I’d run into a cold waterfall somewhere.
TWELVE
THE SYRENE
I left the bounds of the forest about an hour later, the silver sun still rising toward its peak. Which was good. I had plenty of daylight left to burn.
I’d passed at least a hundred of the creepers, or creepahs as Buttplug had called them, while I walked. They hung from the high boughs of the trees, slumbering the day away in their web pods. It seemed like it would be so easy to just climb a few trees and murder them in their sleep. I had a feeling that wouldn’t work, otherwise the forest-dwelling tribe would’ve taken them out long ago. I stored the question in my memory bank to ask if I ever met the tribal leader again.
From the edge of the forest, I turned in the opposite direction to the Warrior camp. Looking left, I was just able to make out the form of the gully’s steep cliffs rising from the ground. Beyond were the dark mountains, barely visible. To the right was a desolate wasteland. Behind me was the shadowy forest.
I walked, swinging my right arm, my hammer ticking back and forth like a clock’s pendulum. My left arm continued to hang dead, but I could still feel the tingling in the exact spot where it had been severed.
The day was warm and soon I was sweating. Still, I was able to make far better time out in the open than I could in the forest. The downside was that I would need to find shelter come Blackfall. At least no spiders would try to sting me and hang me in their larder for a midnight snack.
No, I thought wryly, you’ll just be devoured by a creature with a dozen mouths. Or worse.
There was no such thing as a safe place in this world. Bu’ploog and his tribe members had a good thing going, but it couldn’t last forever. I hoped, for Belle’s sake, that it would.
Even the goddesses’ safe haven was on the brink of destruction.
Which made my mission even more important.
No pressure. I hefted my hammer onto my shoulder, counting my steps to pass the time. I’d reached ten thousand something when I finally stopped to rest. Not that I needed it. Despite my dead arm, the rest of my body felt good, strong. I could walk for days straight if I didn’t need to sleep. But I did need to eat and drink. Thanks to Buttplug and Co, my pack was filled with “moose” meat and the sugary flower water. It was the best lunch I’d had in days.
I soldiered on, distracting my mind from thoughts of whether my Warriors had survived the two Blacks since Belle and I had left. Instead, I considered the priority list I’d created in the dirt shortly after being named Protector, taking stock of my progress. No, I reminded myself. Not my progress. Our progress. That’s what Beat had told me. We were all in this together, something I needed to remember, even if it wasn’t in my character to relinquish control. Right, back to the list:
1. Train the newbs. Beat and Millania (and maybe even Lace, although she might be more likely to eat the newbs than train them) were doing just that.
2. Repair the ward shields. That was the whole point of the mission I was currently on. Good luck, Sam. And stop talking in the third person. Weirdo.
3. Grow our Warrior numbers. Dumbass. You just let one of the Warriors go without a fight. Right after she started blossoming into a badass fighter. I repeat—dumbass.
Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move, but I had a feeling my list of priorities needed to be flexible. Having an ally in Bu’ploog’s tribe might pay off in the long run, even if it diminished our numbers in the short run. At least that was my thinking. Plus, Belle might actually find happiness with the forest dwellers. What were we fighting for if not happiness?
I digress. The rest of the list:
4. Get better weapons. I’d already been rejected on that front. Everything the Seekers had found previously was useless to the current group of Warriors. I’d have to put this item on the backburner for a while.
5. Connect with the tribes. Score one for the big guy with more muscles than brains! At least I’d met one
of the tribes. And though they didn’t seem particularly keen to support the Three, at least they’d helped Belle and me. Even if they didn’t love the goddesses, they hated the monsters as much as we did, and you know what they say about the enemies of our enemies…
6. Find Vrill. More than likely, Vrill and her new dragon friend would find us again. Either way, I had to try to help her. To save her, like she once did for me when we were nothing but strangers.
Going through the list and taking stock of our progress helped clear my mind. For all I knew, Eve might already be back with another group of Warriors. She wouldn’t be happy to hear I’d gone off with Belle on an insane mission. She’d be even less happy when I came back without Belle. But hey, if she’d recruited another five or six Warriors to our cause, at least we’d still be taking a step or two forward rather than the usual three back.
My mind wandered for hours, and I finally understood what it meant to be responsible for shit other than myself. I’d never had that. I’d never even had a pet. Okay, fine, you got me. Once I’d had a goldfish named, wait for it, Goldy. She—or was it a he?—had lasted all of a week before I found it lying belly up, floating at the top of the tank. Yeah, I couldn’t even take care of a fish. I’d given Goldy the ol’ royal flush and resigned myself never to get another pet.
And now I was supposed to protect a trio of goddesses, a part-human woman older than any of my grandparents had been when they died but who looked my age, and a bunch of Warriors who’d fought in less battles than my avatar in Alien Civilization? Strangely, it felt like a task I could handle, maybe even be successful at. I probably still couldn’t take care of a fish to save my life, but I could do this.
I reached up and scratched my nose. With my left hand.
Holy shit. My hand! My arm!
The smile that split my face was so broad it hurt my cheeks, but I didn’t care. My arm was working again. I flexed my fingers, relishing the sensation of crackling knuckles after being inactive for more than a day. I bent my arm, flexing the muscles of my forearms, biceps and triceps. I rotated my shoulder in a small circle. Everything seemed to be in full working order. Which was crazy in the best possible way.