Ayisa and Lassus gave no hint as to their feelings or agenda in the silence that followed. Ayisa clapped her hands together, and a young servant girl appeared from behind a curtain in the corner of the room. She leaned in near enough for Ayisa to whisper something into her ear and then disappeared out the chamber’s entrance.
“We have no wish to muddle our purpose in having you within the City of Flowers, Vaista Aestairius,” said Ayisa. “We will actively be courting your friendship in the coming days, as you will see. With that said, you should know that the warning you bring in regard to the Venmalani is both justified and timely.”
The door to the chamber opened. The servant Ayisa had sent from the room earlier strode in, leading a familiar blond-haired man behind her.
Damon was caught between smiling and scowling as he watched Austine fall forward into a sweeping bow. Damon met his eyes as he rose, feeling a prickling tension, combined with a rising potential for violence.
“Allow me to introduce Austine Treymore,” said Ayisa. “He is an ambassador in service to the self-proclaimed Godking Avarice.”
Austine wore a cloak with a wide neck clasp, effectively covering his crest. Damon doubted that he’d been open about his identity as a crest sorcerer, judging from Ayisa’s introduction. He had a choice to make, though he suspected if he outed his former friend as one of the Venmalese, a sworn servant of the Venmalani, the consequences might splash back upon him and Ria.
“Well met, Austine,” said Damon. “I am Damon Al-Kendras. This is Ria Zakur.”
Austine hesitated before smiling slightly and nodding. “Well met.”
CHAPTER 18
Damon and Ria’s audience with the Athlatak ended soon after Austine’s arrival. A servant led them out of the palace, speaking quietly with Ria in Konokai as they walked single file down one of the flower trails.
“Ayisa and the Athlatak have provided us with a flaqayai,” she said. “It is a small domicile intended for guests and attended by servants.”
“Sounds comfortable,” said Damon.
The flaqayai was a simple, spacious A-frame hut. The bottom floor was an open common room, with two ladders on either side leading to bedrooms upstairs. A platter of food was already set out on the table, laden with a variety of bread, fruit, and cheese. Damon caught sight of his traveling pack and cloak, which had apparently been brought in at some point once the misunderstanding of his capture had been sorted out.
The servant bowed to Ria, and the two of them spoke a few more words. Damon waited until the servant’s departure before turning toward Ria and furrowing his brow.
“She says that we are also welcome to enjoy ourselves in the hot baths not far from here,” she explained. “The service attendants there will see to us if we so choose.”
“A bath would be welcome,” said Damon. “I think my joints are still partially frozen from my time in that cage.”
He folded his arms, trying to think through the situation. Austine’s presence wasn’t entirely unexpected. Avarice likely shared Wrath and Famine’s interest in the Athlatak, their potential sibling. Had Austine made progress already? Damon wondered if perhaps the most available initial lead might simply be plying his former friend for information.
“Wrath has been wrong before,” said Ria, guessing at his thoughts. “It is hard for me to imagine one of the Forsaken as a hormonal teenage boy.”
“What makes you think he’s hormonal?” asked Damon.
“He kept complimenting me in Konokai,” said Ria. “It was rather unseemly.”
Damon chuckled at that, but the emotion soon died on his lips. “I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility out of hand. The Forsaken can be any age, given how their rebirthing process works.”
He didn’t want to explain his experience with Lascivious to Ria, knowing it was a secret that he ultimately needed Malon’s permission to share. Thinking of his aesta brought his thoughts back to her silence through the dreamspell amulet. He took a breath, trying to keep his most relevant thoughts on top of the pile.
“I was more suspicious of the mother,” said Ria. “Ayisa. Do you think it possible that she might be one of the Forsaken and has used her power to position her son as the Athlatak?”
“Anything’s possible,” said Damon. “Do you know how he ascended to power?”
“Of that, I am as ignorant as you,” said Ria. “I will begin asking questions of those who will speak with me. I already seem to be well-liked and respected here in Yvvestrosai, despite our recent arrival.”
“I don’t doubt it,” said Damon. “You’re the mighty Queen of Storms, after all.”
He favored her with a heavily exaggerated bow. Ria set her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes.
“Watch it,” she said.
“Or what?” He grinned and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close.
“Or I will not be of such an agreeable mind when you see what the hot baths have to offer,” she said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come. I will show you.”
She ran a hand across his chest as she headed for the door, flashing a coy smile that stirred an unreasonable amount of excitement within him.
The hot baths weren’t far from their lodgings. The building was a wooden frame with a canopy stretched over it, and a healthy orange glow spilled through against the partially translucent fabric. Steam billowed into Damon’s face as he followed Ria inside, and the two of them were immediately met by four attractive Remenai women in gray robes who offered deep bows.
“It is a common tradition among the honored guests of larger clans to be provided with assistance in the bath,” explained Ria. “You are welcome to accept as much or as little help from them as you see fit, husband.”
“Um…” Damon furrowed his brow as one of the women stepped forward to gently tug on his arm, leading him toward one of the bathing chambers. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Ria grinned and sauntered over to him. She gave him a slow kiss as the other women began to touch him, soft hands gently pulling at his clothing and undoing the cord of his trousers.
He was naked and halfway aroused by the time they reached the actual bath chamber. He descended into a basin carved into the ground and stone, sighing at the way the water’s warmth caressed his muscles. Ria undressed herself and followed him, waving for the three bath attendants to join them.
“Are you planning on getting involved in this?” he asked her. His eyes, however, remained locked on one of the bathing attendants with silver-tipped brown hair as she slowly pulled her robe open, revealing a small, perky set of breasts.
“They are too young for me,” said Ria. “My tastes in women range toward those older, wiser, and more experienced than myself.”
“I can understand that,” said Damon. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”
Ria grinned and came closer to him in the water. She was more attractive to him than any of the attendants, tanned and curvaceous and confident, but the attendants were new and strange. Ria kissed him, and he hugged her as he kissed back.
“This is my gift to you,” she whispered. “I think it is only fair for there to be a reward for the commitment you made in undergoing this journey with me.”
“You’re the best,” he said.
He felt more awkward than expected as Ria slipped away from him and the attendants moved forward to take her place. They were all business at first – very much naked, but serious about using towel cloths and scented soap to get him clean.
The tone of their touching and caressing shifted as they finished washing Damon’s hair. He found himself meeting their gazes and smiling conspiratorially at the first one who took a direct hold of his cock.
Through it all, Ria watched from nearby. She watched, and she smirked as though witnessing her own victory, and above all else, she loved him. In some ways, she was the only woman who’d ever managed to overcome the obstacle of loving all of him. She saw him, in all his h
orny complexity, for who he really was.
The bath attendant’s hands united in the act of gently stroking and massaging him. Damon pulled the first one he’d seen get naked in for a kiss, and then for more. Her lips moved eagerly against his, and as Damon lifted her up onto the lip of the bathing basin, her legs parted for him like branches in the wind.
He would have been lying if he’d claimed it to be one of his prouder, or more clear-headed moments in life. The first bath attendant was lithe, with a tight womanhood that was rewarding to plunge into. The second had a softer body, with plumper breasts and a butt that felt perfect against his groping palms.
He never made it to the third.
CHAPTER 19
“Why do you keep looking at me like that, husband?”
After their baths, Damon and Ria had been given robes to wear, each surprisingly absorbent despite the thin, soft fabric. They walked through the City of Flowers side by side when they could, single file when the trails called for it, always holding hands.
“Because you’re beautiful,” he said, smiling to make the words seem like a challenge.
“You…” She squeezed his hand and gave him a mock scowl. “This is what you have to say, after spending half an hour frolicking with three other women?”
Her tone was all play and no anger, and Damon loved her all the more for it.
“Four would have been my record, if you’d have deigned to join in,” he said.
“I think the steam has gotten to your head.”
“I would also have been fine with just one woman, in the bath,” he said. “One woman I know rather well.”
He squeezed her hand and saw her cheeks flush. She was smiling, but she wouldn’t look at him until they arrived back at the flaqayai.
The food platter had been refreshed with a full dinner and drinks, both wine and what appeared to be a traditional Remenai liquor. Damon and Ria sat cross-legged around the short table, eating roasted and seasoned meat and mushroom skewers, fresh snow peas seasoned with garlic and butter, and thin flat breads that managed to taste both salty and sweet.
They sipped the wine freely, but approached the liquor, which had a powerful sour kick, with a bit more respect. Ria was soon yawning and ready to retire to bed. Damon gave her a tight hug and helped her to the room they’d be sharing before returning to be alone with his thoughts.
There was a ladder leading up to the second floor. He took the liquor with him as he climbed, emerging onto a balcony overlooking the flaqayai’s backside that he hadn’t noticed before.
Yvvestrosai was a beautiful city, dark and peaceful at night. He could see glow flies in the distance, tiny pinpricks of green light, the eponymous ghosts of the ghost moon. He sipped the liquor, taking in the sight, thinking about everything and nothing.
A flicker of azure light out of the corner of his eye brought about a stark change to the mood in the air. Damon turned to face Wrath slowly, unsurprised by her appearance, and so very tired of her games.
“Hello,” she said. “Can I have some of that?”
He turned around against the balcony’s railing, sighed, and passed her the bottle. She took a sip and made a face.
“Sour,” she commented.
“I thought you’d like it.”
“Hilarious. What do you have for me?”
Damon took the bottle back from her and gave a small shake of the head. “Not so fast. Let’s start with what you’ve learned about Vel’s condition.”
She gave him a cold smile. The power disparity between them seemed reflected by their attire. Wrath wore her armor, wrathblade hanging at her side. Damon was still in his comfortable bath robe. Her strength would have meant more to him had he not already arrived at the conclusion that she had no intention of killing him.
“You never stop pushing your luck, do you?” she said.
“I’m a lucky man. Now, if you’d like to hear about how my meeting with the Athlatak went, tell me what I want to know.”
Wrath let out a sigh, and the side of her mouth twitched in annoyance. “I’ve spoken with Famine. She is still seeking information about your sister’s condition, but she assures me that if the girl is managing to eat and drink any amount during her sleeping fit, it is a state which can be undone.”
“That’s an assumption,” he said. “That’s not what I asked for.”
“And do you have what I asked for, Damon? Can you tell me who the Athlatak is?”
“The Athlatak is just a boy,” he said. “No more than fifteen years old. His mother would appear to be the one holding the strings of power.”
“You assume that just because he’s young, he can’t be one of my siblings?”
“That’s not what I said.” Damon took a slow sip of the sour Remenai liquor, suppressing a grimace at the taste. “The only two Divine Remnants who haven’t revealed themselves are Craven and Malice. Can you tell me when they last died?”
“I… am not entirely sure. Craven, as the name would suggest, is notoriously shy. It’s been over a hundred years since myself or any of my siblings had a direct encounter, as far as I know. Malice chose seclusion after the last major war between the Forsaken, which was close to thirty years ago. It’s impossible to know for sure if either of them is still alive, or have died, or if we’re dealing with a man or woman in either case.”
“The Forsaken can switch genders on rebirth?” asked Damon.
“Occasionally, though most of us do trend toward one sex or the other.”
“What, exactly, are you expecting me to do? It’s not as though I can simply ask the Athlatak if he’s one of the Forsaken, or the Venmalani, and expect an honest answer?”
“Of course not.”
Damon folded his arms, considering the situation. “But you could, couldn’t you? It’s not as though it would be that unusual, given the storied history of you and your siblings.”
“It isn’t that simple,” said Wrath. “Craven spooks easily, and Malice is… unpredictable. My presence must remain concealed for now.”
“Then at the very least, I’m going to need you to provide me with a clue as to how to approach this.”
“Craven and Malice both have certain habits which you may be able to uncover as evidence of their identities,” said Wrath. “Malice is an enchanter. Likes to create weapons and jewelry, occasionally armor, with dark power contained within. Curses, sometimes, as well.”
Damon turned one of his palms up. “What, then? You want me to search the Water Palace for evil enchantments?”
“Yes. I’ve no doubt that your sister will be able to help you get access.”
Damon sighed. It wouldn’t be easy, and getting caught might well mean his death, but it was at least a straightforward objective.
“What about Craven?” he asked.
“Craven likes to hide, as I’m sure you might have guessed,” she said. “The Craven I last knew would build dungeons filled with traps to huddle within whenever they were in a mood to escape from the world.”
“You’d have me search for a dungeon?”
“Yes, I would,” said Wrath. “It’s likely near the city, no doubt somewhere the Athlatak is seen regularly. That should narrow your search down considerably.”
Damon didn’t say anything right away. He thought of Malon and Vel, his reasons for serving Wrath despite his wariness of her. He hated being used, but the idea of leaving Vel to waste away in eternal sleep was simply intolerable.
“I’ll do it,” he said. “It’s going to take a few days.”
“I’ll be checking in with you when I can.” Wrath took several steps, drawing near enough to kiss him. “I appreciate you, Damon.”
“I bet you do. Goodnight, Clara.”
Her mouth twitched. Damon suppressed his grin for long enough to see her disappear in a flash of azure light before smiling and letting the tension melt away from his shoulders.
CHAPTER 20
Damon was about to head back into the flaqayai when a movement from the tr
ees below snagged his attention. A figure stepped out from behind a tall bush and gave a hesitant wave up to him. It was immediately clear who it was, just from the mop of blond hair and familiar posture.
“Were you hiding down there, Austine?” called Damon.
“Guilty as charged,” said Austine. “Wrath is terrifying. I have no idea what gives you the courage to speak to her so flippantly.”
“I’ve seen her naked before,” he said. “It helps a bit.”
Austine shook his head. “Good one.”
“Wasn’t a joke. Do you have some purpose for this visit, or would you prefer to huddle outside a while longer?”
They met downstairs, in the flaqayai’s common room. Despite Damon’s best attempt at staying quiet as he climbed down the ladder to the second floor, Ria awoke from the commotion.
“I did not realize that we had guests,” she said.
“I’m not sure I’d describe Austine as a guest, but he’s here, regardless.”
She came down to join them, and Damon was rather amused by the way Austine studiously avoided looking at her body, clad only in the scant cloth of her nightgown. They sat around the low table, and Damon passed Austine the sour Rem liquor and enjoyed his reaction as he took an overlarge sip.
“So,” said Damon. “How’d you survive our last encounter? I seem to recall stabbing you through the chest and pushing you into a river.”
“You must also recall aiming your strike to avoid major injury and giving me a warning before your push,” said Austine, with a smirk. “My survival involved a fair amount of bleeding and a stolen horse, but I’ve sufficiently recovered in the time since.”
“So you have. Now tell me why the fuck you’re here.”
“Haven’t you guessed already?” asked Austine. “We’re basically seeking the same thing, just on the orders of two rival Forsaken. We’ve been here before, Damon.”
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