Convict Fenix

by Alan Brickett

Brakis was about ready to go for him again, having recovered his balance and now with his hands ready to plunge through the purifying flames one last time.

  The guards had recovered and were massed for another attack, and more had come in from the side panels. Which also meant that the three other bodyguards would be in shortly for their turn.

  Fenix had known killing the Arch-Emperor would come at a cost, which was why he had prepared well in advance. He also had no egotistical need to defeat Brakis, rather he preferred not to see which of them would win out in single combat.

  Especially since if the other bodyguards were practical they would not let the fight continue on even terms. He would not, as he had just illustrated.

  His escape was planned, the spell ready, and he was about to activate it when the first daughter’s command echoed throughout the chamber.

  “Halt!”

  Everyone stopped, including a suddenly curious Fenix. After all, he could escape at any time, so long as Brakis and all the rest also remained as still as he was now at the command. The complete command which came from the first daughter.

  This was interesting.

  “The Arch-Emperor is dead!” She cried out so that all would hear. “Long live the Arch-Empress!”

  There was silence, and then the guards bent down as one to go on their knees. Spears were placed on the floor, shields to the other side, and they prostrated themselves before their new ruler.

  Brakis spoke over the clatter of arms and armor falling to the floor amid flesh and bone.

  “You proclaim yourself?” Its voice was grainy, like sand over a tombstone.

  The first daughter, now highest and most powerful entity in the Empire, straightened her neck. “I do. My father is dead beyond resuscitation.” She languidly waved a hand at the headless corpse sprawled on the throne.

  Brakis took a long look, then glanced at the other bodyguards already on their knees, faces to the floor. Then the bandaged humanoid also got slowly down on its knees, and placing its head before her, intoned, “All hail the Arch-Empress of Hellican!”

  Here it comes, he thought, the witty and long-winded denunciation of his actions. He debated leaving before the end of it.

  She surprised him.

  “You, step aside. They need to clean up this mess.” She gestured directly at him.

  The heads of several guards, and Brakis, almost came up from their prostration. But her word was now law, none could argue her commands. Not that he needed to listen at this point, but why make any more of an enemy.

  Fenix stepped aside, but he did not bow, and he did not scrape.

  By the wicked look in her eyes, she knew why he did not, and she liked it.

  **

  He stayed throughout the ensuing audiences and confirmation of the predecessor’s death.

  No mention was made of how, but the proclamations were quickly issued that the first daughter had risen to take the throne. It took a long time for everything to be done and resolved, during which he just stood to one side watching.

  They did organize him the healing services of a chirurgeon, after first offering a necromancer and the weird healing magic from them that he didn’t trust.

  His fire cleansed the rot and decay from the touches of Brakis, the missing flesh was stitched and then restored through magical means and left to adapt to the harmony of his own body.

  For the rest of the time, he was strong enough to stand idly by.

  Playing the servile and well-mannered underling had dulled his edge somewhat, although he had learned many other things. Enough to match what was happening now to the ongoing lesson of how a political takeover worked, avoiding war and more loss of resources in a protracted campaign.

  When it was finally done, the Arch-Empress excused the rest of the servants, the retainers, and nobles, leaving her relatively alone with Fenix and the palace guard, their numbers replenished from the endless supply of fools seeking the prized position.

  She turned to look at him from her seat on the immaculately cleaned throne.

  They could easily remove blood, blood magic being part of their skill set. The body had been carried away, it needed a brain to direct it, or it was useless except as spare material and parts.

  “Well done.” She spoke softly, but her voice carried.

  The mixture of respect and gratitude threw him a little. He hadn’t expected it, even now.

  “I see he did as promised.” The voice, Her voice, sent a thrill through him.

  Unmistakable, even after years apart from it.

  She spoke with a sibilance and tone no mortal could ever hope to copy. Fenix turned to see Aurelian had appeared in the room, among guards who were only just reacting to her presence.

  The Arch-Empress commanded them, “Stay your hands. This is not an enemy of ours. Turn aside from us, this room must now be silent.”

  At her instruction, the entire cohort of guards turned to face the columns they stood before.

  Each one of them reached up and pulled down the tops of their helmets with the unique design that was issued to the palace guard. When closed, they cut off sight and sound, leaving the wearer in a magically enhanced state of complete disconnection from the world outside, such that, although the room was full of guards, the three of them were left in complete privacy.

  Then the Arch-Empress, newly minted leader of a population of billions, foremost priestess of a cult of flesh magic, and de facto leader of the most potent force of necromancers in this area of the cosmos stepped down from her throne. She bent her knees, lowered herself to the floor, and bowed her head to Aurelian.

  “My honor, Mistress, and my gratitude for Your aid.”

  Fenix was speechless.

  He tried to hide it, but of course, She could read him like a book with lettering a foot high. The smile She threw at him was filled with a devious satisfaction that he could only return. Obviously, She played more than one game, ploys within schemes wrapped in cunning plots.

  His lesson and Her goals met in unison; what he had learned those last few years was just the tip of a vast iceberg of understanding.

  She had yet to bestow on him all that She wanted him to know.

  Day 41…

  To call it a town would exaggerate the organization of the Outsiders on their land mass.

  It was far more like a scattering of dwellings suited to each individual need, spread out over the plateau. There were far fewer outsiders than there were humanoid convicts in the Prison, so they could occupy a larger space, stake out their territory, and live in relative peace.

  According to Convenient, Quelina was the most organized, her group of homes set up within the crescent of mountain slopes Fenix now came upon.

  The land mass was high enough to look out over the rim of the shallow range of mountains and see the volcanic landmass beyond. Within the curve on the inside were various buildings, structures carved from and built with the rock.

  No timber was used; it probably wouldn’t last long in the harsh conditions this side of the Prison. So rock and stone walls, doors, window shutters, and roofs.

  A gaggle of different feminine forms adorned the various balconies or languished on porches. They arrayed themselves so that anyone approaching down the path worn smooth into the rocky ground would get an impression of who they would most enjoy.

  Security was provided by two Outsiders of enormously imposing stature. One was a massive fiend with backward bent knees and a muscled torso that was not strictly possible, with normal biology.

  The bat wings the being had on its back were taller than Fenix, and they were at least five feet above the ground at the bottom of the clawed tips. The reptilian face and dull red eyes complemented its overall demonic appearance.

  He hoped it wasn’t all just for show; the sword sheathed on its belt of what looked like skin, was long enough to impale Fenix from head to, well, ass.

  It carried itself in a continually threatening posture, eager for a fight.

  Th
e other being that served as muscle was a giant—not just big, like the fiend, but an actual giant. Twice as tall as the other guard and in bulky proportion, it was essentially humanoid, but with a skin of pale white marble.

  The stone slid and rode muscles that were prominent beneath the outer covering—stone made flesh and grown to mammoth proportions. It had golden eyes, no hair, and sharply contoured features.

  To mortals, the pair would be incongruous, a combination of the celestial and the evil in one place, fit to draw as a tale. They were ready to judge any man who came along, not for their soul, but for their value and whether they could pay for the prostitutes of the Seductress.

  Quelina herself exited a smaller building closest to the giant. As before, she wore only the scarf.

  The silken material wound around her, flowing smoothly in the slight breeze; never entirely uncovering anything, but always suggesting that at any moment a lot more might be revealed. Head high and striding tall, her red skin shone lustrously under the morning sunlight.

  “Ah, I remember you. That armlet does quite give you away, you know,” She called out sonorously, while still a few dozen feet away.

  Fenix had purposely kept it visible; according to Convenient, he should approach this one honestly. Forthrightness would serve better with a being who dealt continuously in intrigue.

  “I am here to discuss something with you, good lady.” Politeness would also be useful, he thought, considering this was her domain.

  She stopped some distance away, much more than an arm’s length.

  Fenix kept walking, closing the gap. The giant and the pit fiend both made as if to come closer, but a sweet gesture set them back on their heels.

  Fenix stopped, his approach to her showing that he was prepared to treat her as the master here, and his gallant bow substantiated the ruse.

  “Oh my,” she purred. “Aren’t you the gentleman? Such honor shown to me, whatever shall I do?”

  He rose back to his full height, half a head taller than her, and smiled.

  “You can stop pretending to be flustered, my lady. I am here on serious business, and I will not take you for a fool.”

  Her returned smile was as inviting as it was pleased. “My, my, but you are quite the forward one now. I like it. Tell me, then, have you remembered your name?”

  “I am Fenix.”

  “Ah, not a name I recognize, but then, the memory loss and all.” She twisted her hips a little, posing, a subconscious habit showing off her fine figure.

  “I personally only deal with those who have managed to get their name back. It makes things clearer, tells you something about them, that their behavior is closer to normal than might otherwise come haunting later.”

  He nodded, it made sense.

  Those without identity could be anything, and a sudden influx of returning memory could change them considerably. Innocence lost; ironic that the Prison returned everyone to a particular state lacking any sin.

  If not for the message and the other inmates, what would become of prisoners who were essentially blank slates, ready to be good—or evil—once more.

  But those were conjectures for another day.

  “My lady, I have information that you wish to have a certain person removed as a problem. I wish to get something that person has, and so I come to you because our needs align.”

  She tilted her head, curious. “Oh, and who would this supposed nuisance of mine be?”

  “Joanne, in the forest.”

  Quelina’s eyes narrowed, a slight darkening rose around her and melted away. If he hadn’t been watching for it, he might not have noticed. It was a milder, but similar, effect to that he’d seen in the arrivals area.

  Her real power and likely pure form were well hidden behind this illusion of lust.

  “I see,” she replied. “And what is it that you want from me in exchange for this offer?”

  Fenix bowed slightly. “I need you to take me to the forest and tell me everything that you know, so I am better prepared to kill her.”

  “Hmmmm?” The sound from her created a certain mixture of thrill and desire to please. He ignored it as the glamour it was. “So you need me to take you there. A surprise attack I suppose? But you seem capable enough, and I quite like that deliberate look in your eyes. The intent you exude is rapturous.”

  She licked her lips at that, in obvious enjoyment.

  “I will help you, but I need you to do something for me first.”

  Fenix raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “I am helping you. Our needs coincide.”

  “Oh yes, they do. But I have no idea if you will succeed, and if you fail and do not die in the process, Joanne may learn of my assistance. At the moment, I have another problem, which, if you help me, will give me the means to avoid such retribution. You want something from among her assets I assume since you haven’t been around long enough to make her your enemy. So you may just decide to steal it. Theft over assassination is usually safer, after all.”

  Quelina looked him up and down speculatively.

  “I hear tell that if you take her virginity, you will receive all of her power. Perhaps that is the amorous duty you seek to perform?”

  He ignored the enticing inquiry behind the question and replied with a toothy smile, “No, I try not to mix business and pleasure.” He had lied, but continued honestly, “But I see your point. I will help you with your task, then you agree to take me to the forest and tell me all you know?”

  “Oh yes, darling. That will be superb, and who knows, perhaps we can have a much closer discussion about all of this when you are done with my initial…needs.” The way she said the last word told him everything he should know about what else he could do for her.

  His body reacted despite himself, the tightness in his pants and blood rush a visible sign that she had affected him.

  She knew it, he could tell by the lascivious smile.

  He was a challenge.

  Fenix could understand how the other powers would get annoyed at such a being, one who would prod and pry at their willpower to get them to acknowledge her feminine wiles. When she succeeded, they would likely be bitter at being used.

  But he knew better, she was a being of sexual energy, he could tell that much. There was no lack of strength in being overcome by her, it was the nature of her existence.

  That was a big difference between what he had learned about survival and what others did simply to survive. You had to understand that there were things stronger than you in some areas, it was the nature of the cosmos.

  “Very well,” he said. “What do you require of me?”

  “I want you to perform a task for me, one which you seem quite well suited for, my dear. I want you to kill something.” The sultry voice added a certain lusty sensuality to the way she said it.

  Quelina raised a perfect hand and snapped her fingers, and in response, her home rose out of the land.

  **

  It was now obvious how Quelina was able to travel with her retinue of selected women who all sold themselves around the land masses of the Prison.

  Their houses were bolted onto the backs of giant beetles. And not just any beetles, either. These chitinous members of the insect family differed in several ways, aside from their size, to the common bug running around beneath your feet.

  Quelina explained some more about it, and what she wanted from Fenix, as they rode the massive being across first the land mass of Outsiders’ Town and then started to hop over to the volcanic landmass beyond to the north.

  The giant beetles had a general intelligence, perhaps around that of a canine. Mostly instinct and self-preservation, but with the capacity to learn commands and obey. It also helped if the controller could telepathically send commands right into what amounted to their brains.

  The giant beetles consumed rock, solid rock, and they found different kinds of stone to be palatable in different ways.

  So their exoskeletons were particularly hard because some metabolic pro
cess transformed the rock into a web within the chitin, making it much stronger than a normal carapace. Within that chitin, they also formed pockets of gas.

  A chemical byproduct from breaking down the rock and their propensity to eat sulfur and other substances allowed them to fill the pockets with lighter-than-air gases.

  This meant that the beetles, despite their size, could fly for short stretches. Quelina organized the drilling of holes into the single large plate of exoskeleton behind the head, which then had bolts affixed.

  Onto these were erected a structure that rode on the beetle’s back, but not so far down as to impede their wings. They made a deafening buzzing sound in the air as they beat up and down faster than the eye could follow.

  The beetle would leap forward and upward on its long hind legs, the wings carrying it along and controlling the glide. In this way, they quickly hopped across the first land mass away from Outsiders’ Town.

  They did the same across the floating chunks of land in the separation up to the volcanic plateau.

  With the wind whipping past, Fenix was enjoying the ride.

  Then Quelina spoke. “Most of the air currents between the land masses are riddled with vortices, massive updrafts, and downdrafts that can aggravate a flying creature’s capacity to move from one place to the next. I think that this keeps creatures in their own zones and prevents anyone dominating the skies.”

  Fenix could understand that it made sense that the weather and currents would do strange things. With the gap below and above, the solid rock in between would create all sorts of air currents and flows.

  “The beetles can take us over by using these islands; we gauge the weather and move from island to island. But we still can’t do it everywhere; some of the interior and northern land masses have too strong a force of blown air.”

  Even through the wind, her voice managed to be seductive, like the whisper of his last lover in his ear. Not that he remembered that, but it still enticed him.

  Quelina smiled at him, and when she spoke, he caught glimpses of both blunt and sharp teeth—two very sharp ones above and two in the jaw below.